When I was a senior in high school I quit all school activities. I quit the band, I quit theater, I was over it all and just wanted out. I was finished with high school, with adolescence, with my home town, and just wanted to move on. I wanted out of Salina, I wanted out of the house. I wanted to go to college, feel independent, get on with my life. I did not have a bad childhood at all, I was very lucky in many ways, but I was over it and was ready to move on. I was anxious.
I feel much the same way now, mixed with a level of panic and anxiety, not about moving to France, but about getting everything done around here, and especially about the house. The time is getting perilously short, barely a month and a half, but there is still much to do. Much like my move from my hometown to my college town some 49 (?!) years ago, it's not that I've been unhappy here, it's just that I'm ready to move on and I want to get on with it.
Hired someone to remove the ivy from the house, that job will be finished tomorrow but it's just the start of what needs to be done. Sold a bunch more stuff to someone off Marketplace, and it's likely that he'll buy more. Scattered TJ's ashes on a twilight walk with Bailey. I hit the road tomorrow morning for a quick trip to Kansas and back.
We grew up in a "Leave it to Beaver" childhood in 1960s/70s Salina. Salina was considered to be a politically moderate town that supported a thriving arts community. We could take off on our bikes without telling anyone where we were -- as long as we were home for dinner. "Trouble" meant getting a flat tire while driving up and down Santa Fe Ave on Friday and Saturday night. "Trouble" didn't mean waking up in a hospital following a drug overdose. Being the youngest meant not appearing in many family photos -- but it also meant our older siblings served as battering rams, breaking family taboos and traditions. By the time I started high school, I was an only child requiring minimal active-parenting. My parents moved on to grandparenting, and I hid out in the basement. I don't regret growing up in Salina all those decades ago. It was pretty idylic for the times. But it sure holds no appeal to me today. It appears to be a haven for right-wingers afraid of change, afraid of diversity, and afraid of education. Someday I will allow my ashes to rest there, but I sure won't be visiting my hometown before then!
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