Hollywood Nights
Damnit, I can't sleep.I'm totally exhausted with only 4 hours of sleep last night (mental note to self: when you move to the city, no TV in the bedroom -- or else you'll end up staying up watching stuff like this which actually wasn't too bad). I'm just too excited for tomorrow. And I gotta be head out at 5AM to catch the morning light in the central valley. Whatever, we'll see how my lazy ass fares at the crack of dawn. Picked up the RZ67, got 3 Pro Packs of Velvia 50, all the bags are packed and I have a general sense of where to go. Still undecided though if I should try to pull off a monster trek to Utah for this. Ever since I saw that amazing flick My Darling Clementine, in all it's cinemascope glory eons ago back at (crap, I can't remember the name of the hall anymore!) UCSD, I've wanted to be out there. In the great expanse. Nothing but me, my car, the road below, and the sky above. We'll see...a detour through the four corners would definitely double the trip mileage, and I'd have to forego Mono Lake & Tioga pass.
It'll be good seeing family again, annual barrio fiesta in Torrance, then a brief stay in San Diego. Maybe I'll get a chance to visit an old friend. It's always quite the perspective adjustment whenever I visit San Diego. Everyone with the half-a-mil 2000 sq ft house in suburbia, married with 2.5 kids. BBQ grill out back, weekly lawn mowing out front. Golf on weekends, the occassional kid birthday party, maybe a movie on Tuesday night. 9-5 job, with Charger football on fall Sundays and Padres baseball on warm summer afternoons. Sometimes I wonder...had I decided to quell my restless soul and remain in the land of the Sport Utility Vehicle and the isolated carpool lane, where would I be? A beautiful home in Carlsbad and a rental property in Chula Vista? A spectacular trophy wife and 2 kids? Saturday afternoons in the park?
But I remember why. 29 years in America's Finest City had done nothing to satisfy my soul. I wanted more...I wanted to know what's out there. I remember sitting up at night in that upstairs bedroom on a humid and hot July evening in the Queens brownstone, looking out into the city and being so really happy. Listening to the hustle and bustle of that great dirty city at 3 in the morning, the 7 train roaring by and the trash trucks processing countless bags of garbage. And realizing that somewhere out there is everything that I've always wanted, and all that I'll ever need.
Fast forward 16 years and the quest continues.
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1 Comments:
If it wasn't for the damn housing boom we'd all feel a little more comfortable with where we'd live.
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