Sentimentality Over a Steak

My parents have always struck (figurative! no need to call CPS lol) me as models of the American dream. Both of them came from rather poor backgrounds but studied and worked their way to where we are now. Their jobs have always influenced our lives. What I remember now is our vacation homes. Tonight, we went to a steak restaurant in a small Wisconsin town. On our way there, we reflected on how we used to go to this restaurant before with friends. We went because it was near Twin Lakes, where we had a vacation house. So we decided to look back at all the fun we had at Twin Lakes. This made me think about how our vacation places have changed with my parent's jobs. It's dripping with sentimentality to the point of tackiness, but still seems very American to me.
When my parents adopted me, they lived in Libertyville. They had a nanny or my maternal grandparents watch over me when they were busy with work, but always did their best to spend time with me. We had a vacation house in Twin Lakes with a pool and a cheap boat we'd take on the town's namesake lake. Although I have many happy memories of Twin Lakes, I realized that it's no luxury destination when we came back tonight. Cheap, broken boats compete for roadside property with Wal-Marts and Menards stores so large they could house two circuses. The people we dined with were, to put it gracelessly, white trash. The entire scene is middle class and seems to scream "AMURICA!" with every American fast food establishment per square yard. But it's not shameful. I felt nothing but pride in this little town as we drove to our restaurant. This is where some great memories took place. This was like a nursery for me. I thought about all my neighbors and all the fun times we had dragging our cheap boat across over-commercialized waters. I thought about our vacation house perched on top of a hill at the end of a long driveway. I thought about how most of the restaurants in the area were awful tourist traps, which is what made the one we ate at tonight so good.
I believe that this rambling is extremely American. My biased affection for this town is about as American as it gets. I'm proud of this town, that it's just like I always remember it. And although my family has moved on to better vacation areas, this town is sacred to us. It's the vacation house my parents bought and renovated themselves. It's the pool I got prunes in every summer day. It's the neighbors we've always loved and still do even though we don't talk anymore. We remember where we came from and are proud. We respect this humble town because this was our very first haven. Although America is a diverse nation, I've yet to meet someone who doesn't know their origins. Chinese, French-Irish-English-Scottish, German-English-French-Austrian, etc. We are a diverse nation but we always remember where we come from, because that's what makes us who we are.