I met a fellow left-coaster today. Hailing from the beautiful Pacific Northwest and Portland’s sister city (sometimes rival) Seattle. Like sliding on your favorite jeans that have been broken in and fit just so, it was nice to have the same accent. Not be the only one who speaks ‘Merican round here. And it was nice to know exactly where they were from. Oh yes – I know that neighborhood. I know that place. I know where you are FROM. Ah. From. I’m FROM there. From.

But, as it turns out… FROM is relative. It’s not always so simple the answer to “where are you from?” You find this out very quickly arriving in a foreign country and enrolling your children in an International School of British standards with a Danish department. I am from the States. I’m American. I’m FROM Oregon. Having lived there a cumulative 17 years –…