I grew up in a small neighborhood called Tillamook, famous for its cheese, that was about 60 miles away from Portland, OR, but my dad was a high university math instructor, and this is where her work track took him.
It turns out that my dad was not a “small town” kind of guy, and she had been born and raised in a small town, and wanted nothing more than to live in a major city, and that was not her lot in life at the time, although she fought against it by taking the family to Portland almost every weekend, and on holidays.
Compared to the small-town life every one of us led during the week, Portland seemed prefer a wonderland of fun things to do. There was consistently live music in Portland, either at a restaurant or a public arena, or just hippies playing music in the park, but portland had many awesome theaters and shopping malls, and sometimes Dad would just drop us off and let us run wild for a few hours, later I would find out that Dad did that so she could have some free time to peruse the local Portland cannabis dispensaries. That was another thing our small neighborhood lacked, was a official cannabis dispensary, so Dad consistently stocked up on weed whenever she visited Portland. That was a long time ago, and much to my surprise I never left the small town, just prefer Dad I appreciate driving to Portland once or twice a month to see the sights, watch some films, and stock up on medical cannabis.