Trying My Best to Find My Home Again…

Spent last night getting ready to fly out of St. Louis and into Austin, spend one night with college buddies and then make my way to the small town I grew up in for my Godson’s Confirmation. (No way, am I that old.)

Tonight, will be one of those great evenings with college friends. There will be drinks, laughs, stories and the sad undertone that part of our youth is gone. We are no longer college kids with hopes and dreams, but wage earners with bills and pressure from bosses. This is not to say that we have given up or thrown in the towel, but we now know exactly how hard it will be to implement our ideas and how much work will be required to change the world. (Because, we haven’t given up on making this a better place to live just yet.)

This weekend will be spent in the town I left a small middle-school student. Obligations to family will keep me busy most of the time, but I am planning to sneak out for a few dinners and drinks with friends so old I can’t remember ever meeting them.

While I look forward to seeing the guyz and galz I studied history, puked in bushes and stole golf carts with, I get more sentimental about the small town. In the days leading up to this trip, I found myself many times daydreaming about reading on my back porch, fishing, bar-b-que and cold Corona, long talks with life-long friends, growing old, etc. I wanted to go home again. But I have changed since I left. Unlike, the majority of my friends, I don’t own a truck, enjoy deer hunting and have never voted Republican. Not saying those are bad things (well, the GOP vote maybe) but just things I don’t desire them. As much as I dream about what it would be like to live there again, I know The Lou is really my home.