Dear Ezra and Lian,
I was born in a small town; in the Collingwood General and Marine Hospital on October 21, 1972. My Grandma Plater was a nurse there. My dad worked in the Collingwood Shipyards. I can breathe in a small town. No matter how long I live in a big city or how many metropolises I visit in this world, I will always be a small town boy. That’s where I’m truly comfortable. I miss being able to look up in the night sky and actually see tens of thousands of stars. I miss knowing all of my neighbours, instead of none of them. I miss people knowing who I am everywhere I go. I miss having little old ladies come up to me and say, “I used to look after you when you were a baby”. I got nothing against people from a big town. I’m just not one of you. I never will be. Of course, I know I can’t go home again. My hometown isn’t the same at all. It’s changed and so have I. All the same, I can sing all the lyrics to John Cougar Mellencamp’s “Small Town” and they would be true. A small town made me what I am today. I’m always going to be looking to return to a small town. It’s probably where I will end up.