Movin' On...

A week of lasts, coming up on a week of firsts. It's odd that, as the day of my move approaches, it totally hasn't hit me - all these lasts and firsts. I look back on my family, friends, acquaintances, people seen, places been. Everything I've experienced for the first quarter-century of my life (with a small few exceptions) has taken place in this town of Fresno.

As I prepare to leave, my emotions are somewhat mixed. I will miss many things about this place: the close proximity of my family, the friends I've retained, the handful of places which I truly enjoy. I will miss my sister, who has been my best friend for years. Pretty much ever since I started college, Sis and I have been the most functional part of my entire faminly, including extended - which I admit is at times not saying much. But I appreciate all the things she's done for me over the years, and the great ear and eye she's leant. She gave me my first Cure tape when I was still in 4th grade, and gave me my home for the past three years. She has come to me for counsel in her times of need and been a willing counsel in my (somewhat more numerous) times of need as well.

I will miss Amy. I have known Amy well on to ten years now, and she has always been one of my dearest friends. She has watched as I grew from a geeky little high school dork to a geeky little post-college dork. She has been my crying arm, my drinking buddy, my counsel-giver and the person who helps me in many times put things into perspective when otherwise all seemed far too imperceptible. She has given me a love for cheezy lesbian coming-of-age flicks and corny comedies, and kept my mood lighthearted when my own serious disposition threatened to turn overdramatic. Amy is one of the few people I have voluntarily kept in close touch with since high school, and I'm very very glad of it.

I will miss Lauren. Despite a sometimes rocky or drama-ridden history, our lives have managed to intermingle far more than I ever thought they would when we were still in high school. We don't see one another or talk as often as we should, but it's invariably my fault. I love talking to Lauren, I love the fact that the tiny little things of life which drive me nuts tend to drive her nuts as well, and that the things which make me laugh and scream and roll my eyes are shared by her in almost every situation we ever discuss.

I will miss the Tower District, which has been my adopted neighborhood ever since high school. The lingering Bohemian hang-outs and funky shops and diners along the Olive strip right through the true heart of Fresno will always be where I come back to when I want to be reminded of everything that is right and comforting about this place. I will miss Downtown, Fulton Mall, and the Belmont and Kings Canyon strips, which all share that soothing Latin undertone making life here spicy and interesting - literally. I will miss the sex shops and bars which are totally out of place and the ungentrified suburbs which surround them. I will miss Club Fred, Avalon, and the Starline, which have together seen me through more drunken nights than all other places on this Earth put together...

I will miss the flat monotonous land, the relentless grid pattern, and all the wholesome familiarity I have come to love. In sum, there's a whole lot I will genuinely miss. And a whole lot I won't.

I won't miss the seasons. Unlike many places in California, Fresno has them. Heat wave follows heat wave unendingly all summer long, and frost coats the windscreens for months at the opposite end of the year. Each summer seems to get longer and make me long for the chills to arrive. Each winter seems to drag on ever further and make me yearn for the thaw. I guess deep down, I'm an honest weather pussy, despite having survived 25 years of nature's worst.

I won't miss the politics. The corrosive policy of Fresno's aristocracy to take aim directly at all that makes the place intriguing and diverse, and shower it with a toxic tonic of gentrification and pastel rebirthing. I won't miss Mayor Bubba, with his self-righteous finger-pointing and usually racist or elitist everyday banter. The shallow faces of the men with their hands in the ever-expanding taxpayers' pockets, extracting not only the money, but the heart, soul and life energy out of the people of Fresno, promising a bustling metropolis and repeatedly getting nothing but more trees, more antiques, more lace curtains and more laws against being interesting.

I won't miss the close proximity to my often-insane family. Despite having the best sibling in the world and a tremendous love for each and every one of them otherwise, my family can be very trying much of the time. The amount of energy I use keeping them at bay will no doubt be greatly decreased, and the relationships consequently improved to the same degree, once I'm a few hundred miles and a toll call away from them.

I won't miss the sad faces and slow youth drain. I won't miss the cliquey crowds who tend to spend most of their time drowning their sorrows or smoking them away rather than finding happy alternatives. The bars which latch onto you and try their darndest not to let go, until you finally cut the cord. The small-time, small-town musicians who stare aloof from the stage as if they had already hit the big-time. I love every note they play, but I often find that the things which I am hooked on in the worst way are exactly what I often need to remove myself from.

I won't miss many of the everyday things which have become increasingly significant in their occurrence over the years, and resulted in a detached sense of indifference for me when I look back at my history in this town. The time was right to leave. I'm glad to be moving on. And there are truly things to look forward to now.

In addition to the obvious benefit of waking up naked every morning next to the cutest boy I've ever seen, I look forward to having what I honestly consider my first real job. I look forward to finding out whether I can really succeed on the open market, with only my ability and ambition to take me as far as I can go, and without the added baggage of disappointment and nepotism adding to the everyday weight I carry. I look forward to new people and new everyday challenges. I look forward to what life is all about - facing the day gladly and without regret.

It's not often that one wakes up and declares "Damn, it's good to be alive!" Though I feel I do this more than most people, I still don't feel I do it as often as I should, especially here when my life is edging on the one-third mark. I think the drone of the everyday and the lack of job satisfaction for over three years have been a significant part of this. I'm anxious to become part of a new something. Few people understand the importance of work in filling that space many try to fill with money or religion or drugs or sex - work is what you are and how you live. I want to stop working for a living and start living to work. I have always promised myself that I would love what I did with my life, and now it's time to come through on that promise.

I look forward to being the little black sheep in the big city. All my life, I've been a genuine concrete jungle fanatic. I lived for the occasional trips to Los Angeles or San Jose and always looked with indifference at the frequent journeys to Yosemite or the countryside. I loved standing on a hotel balcony and watching the cars buzz by on the freeways or tried to catch glimpses of people in the twinkling skyscrpers whilst my family complained about the noise and light. I'm a city boy through and through, and Fresno of all places is the least city-like city you can find. I'll be happy to see myself everyday feeling the concrete and steel under my feet, the comforting and ubiquitous smell of all manner of food and motor exhaust and trash - and all the types of life you can see from every side. Where Fresno fails, Seattle and Los Angeles and San Francisco succeed (and I'm sure numerous other cities as well).

I can't wait to spend hours exploring a new city. Days. Weeks. Just getting lost in my surroundings and feeling the pulse of something more human and natural than any pile of rocks or clump of trees could ever be. I love cities, and I look forward more than anything to finding myself in an unfamiliar one, screaming to be explored and mapped and documented and ranted about and shouted at.

I don't look forward to losing the freedom of being able to drive and park just about anywhere, I don't look forward to being surrounded by somewhat less-than-like-minded individuals, and I don't look forward to being in a somewhat less accomodating home. Despite the benevolent nature of my future landlord, I'll miss having my sister be that landlord, and I'll definitiely not enjoy the attached neighbors and potential for having someone screaming through the walls about my loud music and home theatre.

I'm not looking forward to the occasional fallout cities produce from their otherwise benevolent attributes: the bubbling sewage which surprises you on the street when you least expect it; the annoying pet owners who fail to curb or clean up behind their stinky friends; the infrequent but still disturbing everyday crime, and the sometimes-disappointing anonymity. I'm not looking forward to relying frequently on public transport which is not always as accomodating as the movies and advertisements portray it. I'm not looking forward to the shrill picket-line-marchers or the professional-[insert non-employment activity here]s or the pan-handlers or the yet-to-be-committed-head-cases.

But in the end, I think I have a lot to appreciate about what's ahead. No matter how long I stay or where I go next, I really can't wait to move on, to have my baby by my side, and be a small part of the big city for as long as it gives me more than it takes from me. It took Fresno more than 20 years to get there... I'm sure my patience is a little shorter these days, but we'll all have to wait and see. Beginning on the first of September 2002, the MurderingMouth factory moves to San Francisco. I'm ready.