A Little G in a Big D

So I’m back in Columbia after a about a week back home (in Texas). Better and more truthfully said, I’m back home after about a week in Texas.

[Blasphemy!!!]

To be fair, I’ve felt this way since about Spring, when I found myself in Austin to attend a wedding for my cousin, Adrian. It’s either my imagination, or the more time I spend removed from my native state, the less I understand it … and its inhabitants. They, of course, include family and friends.

I remember back in college (both Austin and Denton), feeling a bit strange about returning to my native city, Laredo, for the odd vacation visit — it’s a city that’s experienced rapid growth in the last decade, so it’s almost always DRAMATICALLY different every time I go home. So imagine that feeling, on a state-wide level. And with less of a “real” reason.

Now I don’t claim to know what Midwestern culture is — I’m no more a fan of Willa Cather, Grant Wood or barbecue than I was before — and I don’t think it’s grabbed hold of me yet. It’s just that, on this recent trip, I found myself feeling like an outsider … more than usual; and of course, the worst part is that most folks I hung out with were going out of their way to make me feel “at home.”

Friends. Family. You name it. As I sat their — listening to them fill me in on all that transpired during the past few-to-several months I’d been gone (depends on the region) — I was almost always struck with the queerest feeling of misplacement; it was as if I’d accidentally wandered into the wrong scene, didn’t know my lines, and yet the rest of the actors went on. Sounds overly dramatic (on my part, of course), but that’s the best metaphor I can think of (the other ones involve cotton candy, Maury Povich, dildos and llamas, so I’ll spare you all … for once).

I guess what I’m trying to say is that, ever since I left the Lone Star State, I’ve felt woefully out of place upon each return therein. It bothers me, for sure, especially since I’ve only spent the last year-plus in a different state, but the preceding 25.2 years were spent ONLY in Texas. I mean, what’s the damned deal??

So I’m left to wonder, is this just normal growth? Do we, as a species, feel less-and-less attachment to an area — even if it’s all we really knew before — once we leave for a significant and indefinite period? If so, is it a good thing? What purpose does it serve? Am I actually becoming a Midwesterner?? Why do my calves smell of cabbage? ¿Perdoname, señora — dónde está el baño más cercano?

*****

I really hate to end on a pointless, borderline-rhetorical and totally-self-serving series of questions — this ain’t Sex and the City, and I certainly am no Sarah Jessica Parker (no hunky Matthew, no girlish figure).

So, out of the couple hundred I unwittingly snapped, here’s one of my favorite images from this trip back to Texas … back to … errr … uhhh … [unintelligible stammer] … ahhh … [gulp] … home.


Gabe satisfyingly looks on at his newly kindled fire (oh the strange, wonderful magic of lighter fluid), as Daniel checks to see if he got “the shot” … the one I missed — Gabe and his “oh s**t” face after dumping about a half-cup of flammable liquid onto the smoldering embers of an hour-old log.

Peace out, Happy Holidays and all that jazz.

- gerry -

… much to the cats’ chagrin.

… I’m cold as hell, and I’m not gonna take it anymore!!

We had our first snow day here in CoMo. It’s fun to see, but never fun to drive in. Makes me wish I’d listened more to my dad during his various driving lectures … I can never remember if I turn in or away from an ice skid … even if I did remember, it would be useless anyway, since I’m usually too busy yelling “f**k” and “s**t” and trying to remember which foot you use to slam on the brakes …

… and whether or not I’d put my current proof of insurance in the glove box.

But hey, at least I’ll look “cute” in my new skull cap when they peel me off the dashboard. Thanks again for the hat and scarf, Abby — they’s warm!!

So cold it hurts,

- gerry -