* * * * *
Dream of the Future
Walking back from the bank (and store to pick up some sugar) I was thinking
about the recent events here at Condo Conner and about how difficult it would
be for me to give up this place.
I'm too sentimental at times I think.
The Condo Commandos aside, the place is nice. It's a good location; the
neighborhood is quiet and the place is comfortable. And I've lived here since
1988 when my Mom bought the place.
I think it may be more that my Mom bought the place than anything else.
Did I mention I may be too sentimental at times?
I have a hard time seeing myself living anywhere else, but then again, I've
always been that way, although of all the times I have moved (perhaps ten
times in my life) I've only moved voluntarily once—in August of 1992 to Boca
Raton to live with some friends while at collage (only to move back here in
late 1993 but that's a story for another time). And in all that time, I
really could only see myself moving to a few locations.
First is a small Cape Cod house in Royal Oak, MI where my paternal
grandparents lived. Sure, it's small, with old style (two pronged) electrical
outlets and only recently has a touch tone phone been installed (early 90s)
but it's comfortable. I know that house. And the neighborhood. I can picture
myself driving off the 11 Mile exit from I-75, going north along the surface
drive to Gardinia, hanging a left and turning onto the appropriate side
street, then a block and a half to pull into the driveway. I even had half a
mind to re-errect the old bell in the front yard (my grandparents had a cast
iron bell, maybe twenty to thirty pounds, mounted on a pole in the front yard
and used it to summon the kids home for dinner. It was still up as late as
1978 until some punk kids knocked it down for the nth time, and then it
languished in the garage ever since). “Yea, turn down that street, then go a
block and a half and look for the house with the bell out front. That's where
I live.”
But it's no longer in the family. The grandparents are no longer around, and
the family sold the house.
Sigh.
Second is anywhere in Brevard, NC, [1] where I lived as a small kid. It had
that small town charm with a real Main Street with two story buildings with
shops along the ground, apartments above and beautiful scenery. Seasons that
change and Halloween felt like Halloween. [2] It's a great place to grow up
as a kid, but I can see where it would start to really suck for high school
students, or people without kids. The closest thing to a night life would be
Asheville, about half an hour away to the north.
And it wasn't quite the same when I visited the place in 1988 (nine years
after moving away). The drug store I used to buy comics at was a Hallmark
store. More fast food restaurants in the area (I remember the first
McDonald's in Brevard was built in 1977) and it seemed … more crowded.
You can't go home again.
Sigh.
I'm too sentimental at times I think.
“The only constant in life is change.”
Time to move on methinks.
[1]
http://www.brevardnc.com/
[2]
gopher://gopher.conman.org/0Phlog:2001/10/31.1
Email author at
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