It Really Is a Small World After All

When someone tells you that they're from Philly, they're probably not really from the actual city of Philadelphia. They're probably from the outskirts. It's like when people ask where I'm from and I tell them I'm from Albany, but I'm really from Scotia. I give Albany as my answer because it's close to Scotia, but people have no idea where Scotia is. Just saying Albany requires much less explaining. When work Jay told me he was from Philly, I asked which part and he told me he grew up in Collegeville. That caught my attention because my husband has family who live in Collegeville and who are very active with the Collegeville Fire Department. My husband grew up just one town over from work Jay.  What are the chances two guys from the outskirts of Philly would end up in Binghamton? Amazingly good, apparently.

I don't know what made me think to ask work Jay what high school he went to, but I was shocked when he dropped the school name and it was the same one my husband went to. My husband was three years ahead of work Jay and my brother-in-law was a year ahead. Neither my husband or my brother-in-law knew work Jay during their school years.

While my husband, Jay, and work Jay never met each other when they were growing up, both said that the other's name sounded familiar and it's probably linked to their years in athletics. My husband played baseball from elementary school through his senior year and work Jay played football about the same number of years, so they have a lot of mutual friends.

My husband, Jay, got his first start in radio (the career he gave up for me- that's love!) at ESPN Radio in Baltimore and work Jay got his first start in radio at CBS Sports Radio in Philadelphia. That might not sound that crazy, but in reality, it's rare for two people from the same high school to not only get a job working in professional radio but to both get jobs in big radio markets right out of college. And then move to Binghamton.

My husband is eternally thankful to me for introducing him to gel and a good barber. And that's all I'm going to say about that because my poor husband has suffered enough mockery through the years.