I hail from a Norman Rockwell painting sprung to life. Tucked away on the back roads of Western New York, it’s the type of place movie scouts prowl for to perfectly capture a bygone era, since proclaimed all but extinct. I was always a tye dyed sheep in that place. They were never quite sure what to think of me, and didn’t seem at all surprised to see me go. Home isn’t always the place of your birth though, I’ve learned. I was itching to wander anyway, so that suited me just fine.