Under the Dome

“This is so… small town, USA.”

“I was just going to say that.”

Running Kingston’s annual Shamrock run Sunday was an interesting experience in small town life. The main strip was closed for traffic, the town hall was where registration was, residents lined the streets to watch the run and parade, groups gathered and the people watching was meant for the who’s who of town.

And there I was ready to run (okay run half jog half) a 2 mile run to raise money for local food charities. We gathered in the pouring cold rain and waited for the race to start. As is down poured on all of the runners, no one seemed to be too dismayed, not even my mascara. It may have been the hail – yes hail – that really made me second guess the race, but I forged onward anyway.

At the end of the race one of my running mates (okay fine, the guy who started the race with me and then met me at the finish line because I didn’t keep up) told me about Stephen King’s “Under the Dome.” Thanks Amazon for this brief recap:

When the dome comes down on Chester’s Mill, Maine, in Stephen King’s Under the Dome, we are slammed up against the wall of one of his mightiest epics. On a sunny autumn day, a woman reaching for a garden squash loses her hand and a grazing deer his head when an invisible and impenetrable bubble clamps down around this rural town. Helicopters, planes, trucks and cars slam into the dome with deadly results.

The rest of the novel describes how the town comes to a halt and ceases to exist as usual due to the dome that covers the land. Here seems like a dommed-land sometimes. There is a close-minded theme that replays at events, bars and social settings. There are people who have only known the borders of this town their entire lives. And there are others that are itching to get out, however they can.

Often when asked where I am from I say the city or Long Island. The next thing out of said person’s mouth is, “And you moved HERE?” In the midst of the townies trying to get out, I came strolling in. We both are escaping something we once knew. I have faith that what I came looking for is here. Not so sure the others are as confident. May each journey we set out on provide what we are looking for or at least a roadmap and a hunch of where to look next.