A needle in a haystack

People talk about how difficult it is to find a needle in a haystack.

I've never looked for a needle in a haystack, but I've felt like a needle in a haystack.

Exactly how does a needle in a haystack feel?

Like everyone around it belongs and like you're this sharp and dangerous thing ready to do harm should an unsuspecting hand land on it.

I grew up in Rome, NY. Population 28,000. I used to say that the population was 49.9% Irish Catholic 49% Italian Catholic, 0.2% other, but in all honesty, that's not exactly true. It was more like 99.99% Irish, German, Polish, Italian... 0.01% other.

I could tell hundreds of stories about being on the outside in a society like that... but I don't want to bore you.

I will pick the ones that I think have shaped me the most.

I'll think about them on the flight and probably post this evening when I arrive in Denver.