Just Got back from Illinois...Oh Boy!

I blame my parents.
They moved us around when my brother and I were kids.
It was always accomplished within the confines of the Midwest, but we moved.
These days I live in Southern California. It is not where I thought I would wind up, but did. San Diego is a beautiful city and the climate is salubrious. What's not to like?
Well, for starters, it's not home! Even after more than twenty years in this remarkable corner of the country, it still doesn't feel like a place where I belong. To be fair...NO place does.
After spending the past week in Springfield, Illinois where I was born, I have to say that it feels about as homey to me as a Holiday Inn. My mother is there. My brother and his family are in central Illinois too, but for some reason I feel only a cosmic disconnect. Sure, the people are nice and the corn is green but I feel no special affection or attachment to the place. I was born there, but left when I was five years old.
My grade school years were spent in Michigan and I went to high school in Iowa. After returning to Northwest Iowa for a couple of high school reunions I can safely say that my desperate desire to escape the place was justified. A trip to Michigan seems in order if I'm destined to find the lodestone of my being. Perhaps all the tumblers will fall into place when once again I gaze on Leslie, Michigan. Probably not.

Am I making too much of this??? I don't think so.
I find myself comfortable in my wife's home state of South Dakota, especially in the Black Hills. Why is that?

I love New England and, after a week or two, get used to that goofy way those people pahk theah cahs and go to Fenway to see the BOSAWX. It's a wonderful place, but too damn cold.


I LOVE New York, and though I don't own enough black clothing to ever pass for a native, could easily live there...for awhile.





Why do I care about this sense of home anyway? Good question.
Maybe I'll call my daughters and see how they feel. Linda and I moved them from Georgia, Kansas, Florida, Washington, Nevada and California all before they were out of high school. They could really be screwed up!
Oh, that's right...they are. But both of them are damned interesting.

This is just some of the chaff that blows through the windmills of my mind on long plane trips.
Perhaps it's the cabin pressure.

Whatever happened to free cocktails on plane rides?

In the meantime, if you need me, I'll be gutting it out here in paradise.Certainly somebody needs to make sure that the sun goes down each evening. And...God knows your weird Uncle Weezer needs supervision.
Yeah, he's here.
We all are.