that on which we rely is the truth of use to us
Hometown pride is a local truth of use to those who, by it, keep alive the myth of a world into which we may still step, and so better ourselves by the bootstraps.
A myth, no falsehood or deception, lays bare a basic understanding and is itself subject to reluctant revision when the presumptions of which it’s woven unravel against experience.
Such was the sit-com world, parsed to snippits, so every family member knows best and we can leave it to whoever, with names more colourful than Donna, Ozzie, Aunt Bea and John Boy.
Still we resist until the edges blur, whether living the dream or chasing the prototype. Until we are silent to admit our families live unlike those held up to us for better or worse.
Here, local truth come into play; value for the purpose at hand. A bright planet taken for the North Star guiding a ship safe to shore. Or advice, from a passerby who doesn’t drive.
Contingent truths scoped to a purpose; conviction for an ephemeral function. Bring me home. Start me up. Be all you can be. Local truths where we have what we lean into.
