I doubt I'm the first person to write about life in a small town and will, most definitely, not be the last. I live in Cañon City, Colorado (which, consequently, is where I probably die someday) and it's stereotypical of small-town life. Your mom knows your hair stylist who knows your cousin's accountant who knows your uncle...the list goes on and on.

Big news around town either includes the building of the new Harbor Freight or the Canon City High School Band placing first at state. Things tend to run a little slower here but I've noticed one thing that is no different here than in any of the big cities I've visited: Taco Bell.

Yes, Taco Bell. It's been on Royal Gorge Blvd. ever since I was born and will probably be there long after I die. It wasn't unusual for my friends and I to dart over there during our lunch break in high school and it's still a common place for my husband and I of three years to go for a quick bite. Small town people love Cheesy Gordita Crunches just as much as the city slickers.

I noticed this when Taco Bell closed for remodeling. Keep in mind, we have exactly five fast-food restaurants in Canon City and losing Taco Bell was like losing your MVP during whatever sporting event you find most entertaining. It was devastating and emotional for some, almost like losing your most treasured pet.

I would pass by the closed-to-the-public Taco Bell every morning on my way to work and roll my eyes at my fellow Canon City-ites who were forced to eat at either Sonic or Wendy's, which are subsequently right across the street.

However, as the weeks rolled by, I began to notice my resolve changing towards those down-trodden Taco Bell lovers. I realized that, what was not important to me, was vastly and inexplicably important to them.

I discovered that many relied on Taco Bell for weekly visits and get-togethers where other establishments fell short. I mean who would want to sit at a Wendy's and talk about the weather? That sort of heated debate is meant for Taco Bell and Taco Bell only.

Although I still found it ridiculous that people were so heart-broken over the closing of Taco Bell (albeit temporarily), I came to the irritating conclusion that I don't have to value what others do, but it's a two-way street. Just because Taco Bell is valued just as much as the The Owl, a 1903 cigar-store turned bar and grill, is not my decision to make. However, I can't say that's a bad thing.

If it were up to me, I doubt chain restaurants like Taco Bell would exist in Cañon City. Small businesses would dominate and life would revolve around the heart of Cañon, a family-centered community. But then, where would we fit in this big-wide world of ours? We would be left behind in the progressive, forward-thinking realm that is the modern world. Some might say that's despicable. Some might say that's perfectly alright.

I realized that it wasn't Taco Bell that made our community turn, but it was a cog in our system that helps it turn. Whether or not I want to acknowledge it, my little community is a part of the larger community that is the worldly clock. Cañon City is one of those little cogs that helps the world turn 'round, whether or not others agree is irrelevant.

I can't say that I'll be looking up my mother's hairstylist anytime soon to discuss the weather over a drink at Taco Bell. But I will be more apt to understanding how Taco Bell (and everything else in town that I feel indifferent towards) has a place and function in the larger scheme of things. To all the other little Taco Bell Towns out there, remember your identity as you help the world turn 'round.