Tuesday, December 26, 2006

When you're back in your old neighborhood

After running a few errands today, I took a little drive down nostalgia lane. The cool thing about me and this town is I spent my whole life here. On almost every corner is a memory. Seriously.

That’s where my dog ran away and we caught him. That’s where we first kissed. That’s where I lived. That’s where I used to ride my bike. That’s where we used to go buy our school shoes. That’s where I asked you to prom. That’s where we broke up. That’s where we went for drinks when I graduated college. That’s where I learned to skate. That’s where I went to school. That’s where Liberty Lunch used to be. That’s where my grandfather lived. That’s where he died. That’s where I sacked groceries for two summers. That’s where I used to swim. That’s where we romped through the creek. This is the room where I lived.

This is the house I grew up in. You probably can't make it out, but that tree on the far right behind the fence, the lighter of the two, was where I spent hours as a kid. It was my spaceship, it was my airplane, it was my towering skyscraper from which I would dangle. It is at least twice as tall now. And I would wait on that little concrete wall with my Bee Gees lunchbox for the carpool each morning to kindergarten.

This is where I went to elementary school. We were the Armadillos. The name is no relation.


This is where I grew up. It may the hot cool town to everyone else, but to me it’ll always be home.

A home full of memories.

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