un otro

another early summer writing about blo/no

Tonight I ate dinner across the street from the coffeehouse. I saw indie looking boys walk by, and yell to their friends, “hey man, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

It made me realize this place doesn’t feel like home anymore. No more sitting at the coffee kup recognizing people that come in. no run ins along the street. No gunshots outside of la bamaba.

Sure places change, and I’ve been away for almost 10 years. But gentrification is a different beast entirely. The cobbler’s been displaced. Along with other ports. You’ll still be the only one I’ll ever love, but this Uptown is bullshit.

I guess I’m feeling a bit disenchanted with this place in general. The small-town bars aren’t what they used to be. The IGA still holds untold wonders, but even my parents, the coolest in the world, are losing their usual luster. Not in a getting in arguments sort of way, but they’re just being a bit boring.

But I also wonder how much this has to do with my current state of affairs. Usually, it seems, there’s something to keep me grounded here. Or rather, keep my feet from totally touching the ground. A friend around. A boy’s calls to keep me occupied. And lou. But this has been just me and the ‘rents. Which is nice, but it lacks that Sweet Home Alabama feeling I always associate with these parts.

And I want to write about this in a Klosterman-esque sort of way. But its not coming to me at the moment. No lofty poetry about the open spaces of the center. Or the way the center centers me. Perhaps I’ve grown out of this. Or perhaps it’s the comparisons I’m making. The last two weekends were filled with former friends and the sort of comfort one expects to find only at home. And not to say that comfort isn’t here, but the camaraderie I’ve had recently is missing. No antics. No late nights, flaming beaches, or wine-drinking roof talks. It is simply home. In a very adult sort of way. And maybe what it comes down to is that I want this place to restore the child in me. To make me feel as young and free as I want to be. But now, my friends here have children and own houses. They’ve all settled into that sub-suburban lifestyle, and aren’t hanging out at the circle anymore. So I’ve just got the Hs and the Ks around. And as much as I adore them all, they don’t have the spark of 20-something life that I’ve enmeshed myself among in recent weeks. By comparison to DC this is the life. By comparison to the nj/ny contingent, this is lame.

But now, I await my train to Chicago, and I hope more antics shall be found there. Of course, the usual suspects are all out of town, but chuckles will be a good time, along with the moyer, and of course my one true love, lou.

I also wonder if the crazy, unrequited things running through my head lately are putting me in a funk that’s not letting me fully enjoy my surroundings. I feel like I spend all year waiting for these moments, and then when they arrive, they are disappointing. And that’s no way to live life. I need to make them worth the wait. So here we go…