A certain sense of... something

Is it nostalgia, or imagined memories, when you walk down Main Street and see the holiday decorations strung across the street? My first statement, unguarded and uncynical, was, "It looks just like my hometown at Christmas!" Then I paused, thought about it. "I guess that's the point, huh."

Everything is just in its place, just where you'd expect it to be. The wooden Indian is exactly where he belongs, in front of Market House (he's also in front of the Prairie Outpost and Supply in Frontierland) on Main Street U.S.A., and I know he belongs there because I've seen enough movies, not because I've ever actually seen a wooden Indian. (Or have I? Who can say?) The flag is fluttering in Town Square, and hey, there's a band playing patriotic music and kids waving American flags, so I guess it's the Fourth of July, just like I remember it from back north... do I? Or was that a book? Close enough.

Cultural memory is good enough, I think. These days it's probably better than reality. Main Street U.S.A. retains its sentimental value even though fewer and fewer people come from a small town with a Main Street, a town square, and a city hall... well, one that they've been to outside of the time they forgot to renew their driver's license online, anyway.