Townie

On the two block walk to my favorite work coffee shop I was thinking over the layers of personal history that surround me in this town. For example, I buy my coffee from a guy I've been buying coffee from for almost half my life. The business he works at is run by friends of my parents. The woman behind the counter is the sister of a long time friend of mine. The building the shop resides in used to house a printing company that my friend's dad worked at.

And that's only the coffee shop. Along the walk I pass by a large building that used to be a lumber yard (and it's many fond memories of Saturday morning visits with my dad). Now it houses a bike builder I've known for years, a kayak shop with a pair of blue heelers that I've played with on several occasions, and a textile company that several friends have worked at over the years.

I walk by the spot I spent countless hours studying while in college, the space that until recently was my regular cafe, which was run by a friend from high school and staffed by my doppelganger.

And this all takes place in a neighborhood I spent many hours in as a teenager taking pictures of decrepit warehouses.

During my early to mid twenties I felt stifled by all those associations, but I've settled in, begun to enjoy them. They are what connect me to the world, they add depth to my landscape. I think that's why I don't enjoy traveling as much as I feel I should. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing new things, and visiting new places, but without any connections, I grow bored really fast.

I am a townie.

Ironically, I don't even live here anymore.