I keep having this conversation—a byproduct of my own incessant humble-bragging about living in Montana. I will be talking to someone I've just met, at a nerd meet-up say, or maybe a coffee shop or airplane, and the topic will just sort of come up. Arise. Spring forth into being.
It probably has something to do with my handshake. The way I grab people by their outstretched hand, not so much heartily greeting them as capturing them in place, and ensuring they cannot politely escape as I loudly exclaim something to the effect of:
"HI-I'M-DAVE-I-LIVE-IN-MONTANA!"
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