Follow the Fortune Cookie

Hometown

"We all have hometown appetites.
Every other person is a bundle of longing for the simplicities of good taste once enjoyed on the farm
or in the hometown left behind." ~Clementine Paddleford
Currently listening to: "How My Heart Behaves" - Feist
Currently reading: Nada

I write this on fast train heading south, back home after spending a few days in Bakersfield. It's funny but I've come to realize that Bakersfield is probably the closest thing I'll ever have to having a hometown. I've never really lived any place long enough to feel a firm attachment to anywhere in particular. There was always a move to look forward to and boxes to pack. Now that I'm planning on leaving California to live in Washington, I've been taking stock of all the stops I've made along the way.

Bakersfield being my hometown came after a night reflecting that above all the other cities I've lived in, Bakersfield has the most memories - good and bad. It is the place that forced me to grow up. It is where I lost my family fell apart, my grades excelled, and my health plummeted. I lost a brother there, and gained another soon after. It is the one place so far in my life where I can here the mention of its name and a bittersweet taste fills my mouth. In a very fucked up way, I believe I'll miss it once I'm gone.

I won't miss the blustering heat in the summer and the serenade of crickets when the sun goes down. I won't miss the smell of cow shit as I drive over the pass into Kern territory or the smog from the cities that fill the valleys to brim. I won't the allergies or pneumonia or the pain on being in the place where I almost didn't make it out. But will miss the clear nights with no street lights, laying in the grass fields, counting the stars. I'll miss my brothers and sisters, especially watching Z-man grow up. I'll miss the cafe downtown that serves coffee just the way I like, the local hockey games, and the hotel I've stayed in so much visiting that the staff knows me by name. It's the little things...

I'll be back in California often enough. My family is here. Most of my friends are here. It is the one place I know like the back of hand. The suburban hills, the country roads, the cityscapes, and the sands of the beaches. However, when I come back it'll be that of a visitor. After twenty-years of expecting this period in my life, it is a funny thing to swallow. I do not hesitate to move forward though, which says something.

So, I'm eating a bulgogi roll I purchased at Union Station, typing away as the train shakes violently back and forth, trying to remember everything just like this. A mental picture for later for when I look back and wonder what the hell I was thinking do this or saying that. Remembering in case I ever experience doubt I made the wrong decision. The buyer's remorse of moving your life states away from what you know. Maybe I'll even laugh about it.