Wednesday, March 22, 2006
There's No Place Like Home
I tried to find home where I used to - downtown. I moved into a hip urban loft with awesome views of the harbor. The wine fridge was stocked with awesome reds and rare ports. The furniture was carefully selected during walks through the local galleries. And all the regulars at the bar downstairs knew Hooch by name. But, as they say, you can't go home again. It just wasn't the same as the REAL warehouse space I had - the unfinished 2000sqft next to the Ben Franklin Bridge in Philadelphia. I tried to drink my way home, yoga my way home, smoke my way home, run my way home, sleep (as in Zzzzz) my way home...It just felt too hard to get anywhere.
Hooch and I moved today. We moved out to what locals refer to as "The Island". Coronado isn't really an island - at least not "unto itself". Keep driving south and you'll hit Imperial Beach. But in another way, it is. I lived here when I was an intern (many island moons ago). At the time, I found it creepy. It was so green and friendly and swell - it was the Truman Show. At that time, I'd just moved from the East Coast. Kids riding their beach cruisers to soccer practice, moms with baby joggers smiling as they ran by, retired gentleman watering their rose bushes...they all waved and said "Howdy, neighbor." Okay, not really. But at that time, It represented everything I feared.
After two years of living downtown...hearing trains, trolleys, planes, garbage trucks...hearing drunks and the local nuts screaming...being threatened, chased, and generally creeped out...having 2 beach cruisers and two mountain bikes stolen from my "security building"...chiseling soot off every surface of my house despite regular dusting...Well, you get the picture. I hereby say, "Howdy, neighbor."
P.S. I forgot that you were a Southern gal too! Yay for rednecks!