Friday, December 5, 2008


You know those Southwest Airlines commercials that ask you, "Wanna get away?" Well, yes. Generally I do. It's not that I don't like Texas. I really, really, do. I just want to get away. It's not my fault, anyway. It's genetic.

As a kid, I lived in five different houses before I started Kindergarten. That house lasted until the end of 3rd grade (why do Canadians say grade 3?). Then, there was a whirlwind of moving inbetween my 8th birthday (spent on a plane crossing the international date line, if I remember correctly) and my 12th birthday. There were really too many homes, and flights, and countries, and cities, and adventures to count here. Sure, there were some 4 month stays here and there, but that was about it. Then I settled down in La Porte for 6 whole years. Then, right after graduation, left and began again- though spending most of the next few year somwhere in Texas.

In college, my now wife and I, lived in the same place for a few years, but I got away to Japan for a semester. Now, we've been where we are in the metroplex for a while, and I'm feeling the urge.

I keep telling myself that I just haven't found the right place yet, but I've seen what happens when people never do. My dad's still got it bad, but is too physically limited to act on it. Biology has forced him to one place.

I don't want my son to get what I call "the disease" but I want to move. I feel like I need to move. I need to find a place I can stay. The problem is, I'm not sure what that will take.