On the Road Again
At a conference I was at years ago, they spoke of how TCKs particularly enjoy On the Road Again. It speaks to our condition, and to the joy of being able to travel again, to move, to find a song that w can relate to. And I have often recognized this song speaking to me, on a deep guttural level, spontaneously breaking into song with other TCKs when we hear it on the radio.
It wasn't until my final day in Seattle that it hit me- I am leaving. I was leaving a book club, looking down over the city from the West Seattle hills, overlooking the bay and giant red cranes. It wasn't with a sadness or even melancholy. There isn't that much attachment to any one place. It was simply a realization, that Seattle was no longer my place, and I was going on to a different place.
It's only when you leave a place that you do everything that you always wanted to do. It wasn't until I left Southern California the first time that I went to Universal Studios, Knott's Berry Farm, and Sea World- all in one month. And it was only on leaving Seattle, on my last full day there, that I went to visit the Needle with Kent. And truly, there's really not much to see up there. But we were blessed with a rare clear day, and even a distant view of Mt. Hood. And one can't claim to live in Seattle for four years and never have been up the Needle.
As to where I'm going, and what I'm doing, I mentioned previously that, while in the Scablands, I was contemplating my future. In greater specificity, I was asking God for direction. And I felt him leading me to spend time with my dad in SoCal, and that God would give me the What Next once I got there- be it staying in SoCal with my dad, or Hawaii with my dad, or Mississippi, or Yemen.
It wasn't until my final day in Seattle that it hit me- I am leaving. I was leaving a book club, looking down over the city from the West Seattle hills, overlooking the bay and giant red cranes. It wasn't with a sadness or even melancholy. There isn't that much attachment to any one place. It was simply a realization, that Seattle was no longer my place, and I was going on to a different place.
It's only when you leave a place that you do everything that you always wanted to do. It wasn't until I left Southern California the first time that I went to Universal Studios, Knott's Berry Farm, and Sea World- all in one month. And it was only on leaving Seattle, on my last full day there, that I went to visit the Needle with Kent. And truly, there's really not much to see up there. But we were blessed with a rare clear day, and even a distant view of Mt. Hood. And one can't claim to live in Seattle for four years and never have been up the Needle.
As to where I'm going, and what I'm doing, I mentioned previously that, while in the Scablands, I was contemplating my future. In greater specificity, I was asking God for direction. And I felt him leading me to spend time with my dad in SoCal, and that God would give me the What Next once I got there- be it staying in SoCal with my dad, or Hawaii with my dad, or Mississippi, or Yemen.
The drive from Seattle to Portland (where I was treated to an excellent lunch by Steve & Julie), Portland to Ashland (where my mum packed another tasty lunch) and then from Ashland to SoCal- this drive is long. Not much more can be said for it. Lots of listening to The Shadow radio dramas on my iPod as I went South. Other than that, ever since the Scablands, the radio has been on the fritz. I get only one channel in clearly, 88.1, and I get that clear channel, oddly, everywhere I go. It plays pleasant songs from yesteryear, mostly folk and other types of 60s music, but with very little talk. No talk, in fact. I only realized upon getting to SoCal that I was hearing the exact same songs on that channel, in the same order. It turns out that channel is somehow set on the CD player in the trunk of the car, continuously playing my same CD.
Now I find myself in Surf City, USA- Huntington Beach to the land-bound, back to where I came from, living in SoCal for 8 years in college, and where my first memories began, when I was 4, and we lived in the Huntington Beach Apartments. (Nothing makes you feel old like finding a place where you once lived is now torn down.) And I am here, contemplating again, and listening, for that next step.
Now I find myself in Surf City, USA- Huntington Beach to the land-bound, back to where I came from, living in SoCal for 8 years in college, and where my first memories began, when I was 4, and we lived in the Huntington Beach Apartments. (Nothing makes you feel old like finding a place where you once lived is now torn down.) And I am here, contemplating again, and listening, for that next step.
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