In the Country... just not OF the Country

So, Jordan has decided he wants a pair of cowboy boots. I don't know why. He's nine and he think they're cool and all his friends at school have a pair. Now, before we go any further, lets discuss the coolness factor of cowboy boots. I think they're awesome. When worn the right way, I think they have tremendous fashion potential. But see, Jordan is nine. His fashion sense calls for nothing outside of blue jeans and t-shirts and "NO, I will NOT wear a shirt with a collar!" Also, I'm pretty sure the kids wearing cowboy boots at Jordan's school aren't doing so because they're trying to look hip. Here in this town where we live, cowboy boots are just what kids wear - both for practical, 'I live on a farm' kinds of reasons, and for 'I wear them cause my Daddy wears them' kinds of reasons.

Take this conversation, for example. I promise I'm relating this to you word for word.

Jordan: Hey Blake, where did you get your cowboy boots? I like them.

Blake: Over at the tractor supply.

Jordan: Where's that?

Blake: You don't know where tractor supply is? Well then you're not country!

Indeed. He is not. Do we live in the country? Absolutely. Do we love the country, even though we would love it a little more if it had a Target? You bet.  But are we OF the country? Well obviously not, cause I'd be plum out of luck if I had to find the tractor supply on my own.