Benedict Arnold

I have a confession.

I'm a traitor. I have grown up in Brentwood, still live in Brentwood, and even work for a Brentwood-based business. But I love Franklin.

This is a big deal. Considering that these two cities are very different, the people who are respectively from each city hold their home dear in their hearts. Loyalties run deep in everyone, except me.

Brentwood is great. Don't get me wrong. But whenever I tell someone I live in Brentwood, they immediately roll their eyes, or ask if I live in a mansion. No, we live in the Brentwood slums or low-rent district, I laugh. We jokingly call it "The Bubble" because not too much happens here. It's a wonderful place to grow up in. But my main complaint is that Brentwood does not feel like a town. There's no town center. We don't have any festivals. All in all, Brentwood is kind of boring.

Then, just a few miles south, is Franklin. I help with band at Franklin High (although how I got that job is unrelated to my love for the city). I drive through Franklin at least once a week on work-related errands, and every time that I drive through the downtown square and past the historic homes, I fall in love all over again. There are sidewalks in front of beautiful homes that have porches. There is a town square. People park and walk around downtown Franklin purely for fun. But the real reason I love Franklin is that it doesn't have the bubble feel that Brentwood does. It's got a grittiness about it. There are not-so-nicer parts of town, and Franklin people are not ashamed of this.

So there it is - a secret close to my heart. I drive by the houses for sale with a dream of living there, walking my dog on the sidewalks, going downtown to eat on a nice evening.

Maybe it's not too late for Brentwood to learn a few things from its southern neighbor. Then two places would have my heart.