I Wish I Was, Homeward Bound, Home Where My Thought's Escaping, Home Where My Music's Playing, Home Where My Love Lies Waiting For Me, Silently For Me
--"Homeward Bound", Simon & Garfunkel
Tonight I've finally gotten into the Sheraton Riverside located in Louisville. Actually, I think I'm technically in Indiana right now. I swear, East Coast Cities and their East Coast state lines. I'm trying to cram as much as I can into tonight because three days isn't really a vacation. I'd say it's more like a jaunt and I really can't be updating this blog as much as I normally do when I take a trip. If I want to get the most out of this experience I need all my free time be spent seeing everything and anything that can't be seen in the likes of California.
Later today I meet up with Miss Toby so she can point out Churchill Downs, maybe the Louisville Slugger Museum, and the rest of the day at Six Flags Over Kentucky Kingdom.
Sunday I take my stupid rented car, which might as well be a mule, it'll be so small, and go spelunking for the parts of Kentucky that you don't find on the map. Maybe I'll try driving over to the Maker's Mark Distillery and going on a tour. I was planning to do that, but it kind of sucks when you don't have any company with you. Drinking alone is never my favorite pastime. Even though traveling is not that bad, I always feel the most alone when I want to get a drink and there's no one to call to get one with. Sometimes it makes seeing a new city rather more than drab than it should be.
Monday I go home.
That leads to the question why I planned such a short trip. More generally, why do I subject myself to such excursions instead of waiting for the appropriate accompaniment? Well, this trip was two-fold. I've been meaning to pay a visit to Marion and this time seemed as good as any. Secondly, I've always wanted to see where the bourbon is born since that, indeed, is my poison of choice. At least those are the reasons I gave my co-workers today and the reasons I told myself when I made these last-minute plans at the end of August.
The real reason why I think I jumped at the opportunity wasn't so much where I was going to. I'm sure once I see the bluegrass country in earnest, I'll describe it as some of the most beautiful country I've ever seen. I'm sure the pictures I take will be breathtaking. I'm sure all the restaurants and sights I see will be memorable. I'm sure the company I keep and make over here will be scintillating and keep me busy the whole time I'm here. Honestly, though, I don't think I'm as focused on coming here as leaving there, California. I think this trip was more about getting away than coming into a place.
I can't even put my finger on what exactly I'm leaving. It's not any one thing. It's not like the world came crashing down on me back home. My job's fine. I have no huge crisis I'm trying to deal with. I'm not carrying any specific baggage. For me this trip is kind of restart of a sort; I'm trying to do something new and innovative instead of feeling like from the moment I wake up to the moment I sleep has been repeated ad nauseam the last couple of years. Everything's starting to feel like more of the same instead of offering up something different. I guess that's why I go on all these trips, because I always manage to feel slightly more of myself when I get away from who I always am in the place I always am.
Boston, Chicago, and, I guess now, Louisville--they're all attempts at the same process. It's basically me trying to find myself by losing myself in a place where (almost) no one knows me. I don't change my personality. Maybe I become friendlier than I already am (already on the shuttle ride here I got to know two of the other guests staying in the Sheraton with me), but not by much. I pretty much stay as even-keeled with occasional bouts of impulsiveness like I normally am. However, when I'm in a new location I always manage to smile more. I always manage to do two or three things I've never done before. I always manage to find one spot that is unlike any spot in L.A., a spot where I tell myself I have to come back to one day.
Los Angeles may be where I live, but I don't know if I can call it home.
It doesn't feel like home. It just feels like where I happened to have been these last thirty years.
Toby thinks when I take these trips of mine, I'm auditioning cities as potential places I might want to move to one day. She might be right. I certainly don't go into these jaunts with the intention of grading the cities on their potential to become my new home city, but a part of me can't help but imagine what it would be like to stay forever in these new cities. What kind of person would I be if I actually could catch a Red Sox game at Fenway all Summer long? What kind of job would I have had I taken up Ilessa's offer to join her in the City of Brotherly Love? What kind of friends would I have were I to be surrounded by the climes and locales of Louisville? I don't know. It's certainly an intriguing exercise of the mind every once in a while when I'm first walking around a town.
The thing is it never feels right anywhere. I don't feel I belong anywhere just yet. I still haven't found anywhere that suits me completely--not even Boston. Somewhere along the way, whether I'm staying a week or even three days, I reach a point where something feels off. I come to the conclusion there is one thing missing that I need to live comfortably or there's something in the new city that's off-putting and undesirable. That's when I usually start looking forward to getting home--not because home is any better, but it's one of the situations where I'd rather deal with the devil I know and have become used to rather than a whole devil or set of devils. I'd rather live in L.A. mildly uncomfortably than anywhere else potentially miserable. I mean--that's what happened to Ilessa and I don't want that happening to me.
Yes, I'm going to enjoy my day with Toby later today. Yes, I'm sure I'm going to take more than one sample of the bourbon back to the hotel room with me on Sunday. Yes, I know there's going to be one or two restaurants that I will simply go on about once I return Monday night.
What won't be returning with is the idea that I fulfilled some great purpose or took care of some big problem. This trip will be what all my trips turn out to be, a fabulous distraction from the numbing normalcy that my life has taken on. Eventually, I'll fall back into the routine and yet again be earmarking the calendar for the next opportunity to break that selfsame routine.
Oh 'twell! That's a thought for Monday night on the plane trip back.
Tonight I sleep for tomorrow I begin accepting what Kentucky has to offer me.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
Tonight I've finally gotten into the Sheraton Riverside located in Louisville. Actually, I think I'm technically in Indiana right now. I swear, East Coast Cities and their East Coast state lines. I'm trying to cram as much as I can into tonight because three days isn't really a vacation. I'd say it's more like a jaunt and I really can't be updating this blog as much as I normally do when I take a trip. If I want to get the most out of this experience I need all my free time be spent seeing everything and anything that can't be seen in the likes of California.Later today I meet up with Miss Toby so she can point out Churchill Downs, maybe the Louisville Slugger Museum, and the rest of the day at Six Flags Over Kentucky Kingdom.
Sunday I take my stupid rented car, which might as well be a mule, it'll be so small, and go spelunking for the parts of Kentucky that you don't find on the map. Maybe I'll try driving over to the Maker's Mark Distillery and going on a tour. I was planning to do that, but it kind of sucks when you don't have any company with you. Drinking alone is never my favorite pastime. Even though traveling is not that bad, I always feel the most alone when I want to get a drink and there's no one to call to get one with. Sometimes it makes seeing a new city rather more than drab than it should be.
Monday I go home.
That leads to the question why I planned such a short trip. More generally, why do I subject myself to such excursions instead of waiting for the appropriate accompaniment? Well, this trip was two-fold. I've been meaning to pay a visit to Marion and this time seemed as good as any. Secondly, I've always wanted to see where the bourbon is born since that, indeed, is my poison of choice. At least those are the reasons I gave my co-workers today and the reasons I told myself when I made these last-minute plans at the end of August.
The real reason why I think I jumped at the opportunity wasn't so much where I was going to. I'm sure once I see the bluegrass country in earnest, I'll describe it as some of the most beautiful country I've ever seen. I'm sure the pictures I take will be breathtaking. I'm sure all the restaurants and sights I see will be memorable. I'm sure the company I keep and make over here will be scintillating and keep me busy the whole time I'm here. Honestly, though, I don't think I'm as focused on coming here as leaving there, California. I think this trip was more about getting away than coming into a place.
I can't even put my finger on what exactly I'm leaving. It's not any one thing. It's not like the world came crashing down on me back home. My job's fine. I have no huge crisis I'm trying to deal with. I'm not carrying any specific baggage. For me this trip is kind of restart of a sort; I'm trying to do something new and innovative instead of feeling like from the moment I wake up to the moment I sleep has been repeated ad nauseam the last couple of years. Everything's starting to feel like more of the same instead of offering up something different. I guess that's why I go on all these trips, because I always manage to feel slightly more of myself when I get away from who I always am in the place I always am.
Boston, Chicago, and, I guess now, Louisville--they're all attempts at the same process. It's basically me trying to find myself by losing myself in a place where (almost) no one knows me. I don't change my personality. Maybe I become friendlier than I already am (already on the shuttle ride here I got to know two of the other guests staying in the Sheraton with me), but not by much. I pretty much stay as even-keeled with occasional bouts of impulsiveness like I normally am. However, when I'm in a new location I always manage to smile more. I always manage to do two or three things I've never done before. I always manage to find one spot that is unlike any spot in L.A., a spot where I tell myself I have to come back to one day.
Los Angeles may be where I live, but I don't know if I can call it home.
It doesn't feel like home. It just feels like where I happened to have been these last thirty years.
Toby thinks when I take these trips of mine, I'm auditioning cities as potential places I might want to move to one day. She might be right. I certainly don't go into these jaunts with the intention of grading the cities on their potential to become my new home city, but a part of me can't help but imagine what it would be like to stay forever in these new cities. What kind of person would I be if I actually could catch a Red Sox game at Fenway all Summer long? What kind of job would I have had I taken up Ilessa's offer to join her in the City of Brotherly Love? What kind of friends would I have were I to be surrounded by the climes and locales of Louisville? I don't know. It's certainly an intriguing exercise of the mind every once in a while when I'm first walking around a town.
The thing is it never feels right anywhere. I don't feel I belong anywhere just yet. I still haven't found anywhere that suits me completely--not even Boston. Somewhere along the way, whether I'm staying a week or even three days, I reach a point where something feels off. I come to the conclusion there is one thing missing that I need to live comfortably or there's something in the new city that's off-putting and undesirable. That's when I usually start looking forward to getting home--not because home is any better, but it's one of the situations where I'd rather deal with the devil I know and have become used to rather than a whole devil or set of devils. I'd rather live in L.A. mildly uncomfortably than anywhere else potentially miserable. I mean--that's what happened to Ilessa and I don't want that happening to me.
Yes, I'm going to enjoy my day with Toby later today. Yes, I'm sure I'm going to take more than one sample of the bourbon back to the hotel room with me on Sunday. Yes, I know there's going to be one or two restaurants that I will simply go on about once I return Monday night.
What won't be returning with is the idea that I fulfilled some great purpose or took care of some big problem. This trip will be what all my trips turn out to be, a fabulous distraction from the numbing normalcy that my life has taken on. Eventually, I'll fall back into the routine and yet again be earmarking the calendar for the next opportunity to break that selfsame routine.
Oh 'twell! That's a thought for Monday night on the plane trip back.
Tonight I sleep for tomorrow I begin accepting what Kentucky has to offer me.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
Labels: home, Kentucky, Simon and Garfunkel, Toby, traveling
posted by mojo shivers @ 12:59 AM
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