So my dad was from South Dakota. A strange thing for a Russian Jew, I know, but maybe it reminded his dad of Siberia or something. Something about the desolate cold. Today, of course, I am feeling nothing but grateful that my father moved from SD to DC.
Andrea, too, is feeling grateful as she turned down a job offer in Vermilion, South Dakota just recently. From her email to me: "Jews belong near a border. I have to keep reminding myself of that. And in the desert is also good for jews. Not Vermilion. Not lands named 'bad.' And definitely not where you have to open an abortion clinic in your own basement."
My dad used to say: I don't know if people live longer in the midwest or it just feels that way (with apologies to my Madison and Chi-town buddies out there).
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