Driving alone in a car is a great place to simply think.

Not major pondering about the true meaning of democracy or if the person that engraved Elvis’s tombstone spelled his name incorrectly on purpose, but ideas pertinent to our daily lives—at least semi-pertinent.

And while driving to Hinsdale Monday on job-related business, I did just that. There must be something about being alone in a car, watching the fields as they indiscriminately roll by while listening to the hum of the engine.

The peaceful setting eases your stream of conscious thought along, only to be interrupted by the occassional pothole or flashing red lights from one of our nation’s finest. And a cheap car radio doesn’t hurt either.

So there I sat, alone in my car and my thoughts, trying to stay calm by watching the rolling meadows as traffic grew heavier.

The farmlands whizzing by my car window as I most graciously drove the speed limit reminded me of where I grew up. But the congested traffic crashed me back into reality and made me think about the differences of the two predominant Illinois lifestyles—City and Hickville.

City lifestyle is defined as any hometown a person cannot tell you how to get somewhere because the area is so big they just don’t know.

Hickville (also known as Redneckville) lifestyle is defined as any hometown a person not only can give you directions, but probably knows where you are going or a relative to your destination.

If the above test still leaves some doubt as to which category you reside in, there is a failure-safe determining question. If three friends had a high school graduation class greater than the population of your town, then you live in Hickville. If not, then you live in the City.

By the way, the suburbs is not an optional answer. Any community of dwellings not separated on at least three borders by at least two miles of nothing is bunched into the nearest big-name city. Hence, Northbrook and the like are part of Chicago.

The distincton is definite between the two categories, but usually can never be understood by the other party.

I can remember wandering around the dorms when I first got to NIU, excited about the challenges and good times of college life and eager to learn about the City dwellers while relaxed to see the familar farmland settings.

I never thought the first concept I would have to explain in college was the purpose of the snow fence or the undeniable aroma of fertilizer.

And I never could understand all of the odd explanations my friends gave me to demonstrate the differences between the suburbs and Chicago.

Well, when a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to go “Downtown,” I thought she meant DeKalb. You can imagine my surprise when she parked the car near the corner of Michigan and Wabash.

And I always figured everyone was grounded when they were in grade and high school because they absolutely refused to wake up at 4 a.m., wear gloves, dress in fall clothes and put a garbage bag over their head so they can go corn detasseling in the sweltering heat.

But, I’m happy to say, all of my City dweller friends are patiently working with me to refine my uncouth behavior.

By the way, when Hickville dwellers try to sound sophisticated, they call manure “compost.”