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My parents came very close to moving our family to Atlanta when I was in middle school. Apparently, my father had been given a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity and he thought it’d be good for us. I, however, did not. I was only 11, but I knew I wouldn’t fit in down there and that I’d be better off in South Jersey.

My social concerns had nothing to do with my unfortunate purple glasses, my awkward sense of humor, or my lack of athletic abilities. My worries stemmed from the fact that I knew I would have a very unpopular opinion down there in the Peach State: I thought (and still do think!) that canned peaches are better than fresh. That’s right — I said it! Now, hear me out.

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