Isn’t it funny how you inherently know things sometimes? When I was a kid, I told everyone I knew that I was going to Auburn University to study to be a veterinarian. Of course I never did either, but my Mom swears I came up with both notions completely on my own and nobody seems to be able to pinpoint how I found Auburn or decided to be a veterinarian since I’m allergic to everything with fur, including Alec Baldwin.
As long as I can remember, Seattle has also been an inherent part of the person I am. I’ve wanted to live there in the worst way and finally took the last $300 on my credit card in 2000 and took a chance that Priceline could get me there on that amount. So one summer 4 years ago I made my first flight across country to Seattle. In my mind, it was this rainy oasis where people left you alone to your poetry, coffee, thoughts or whatever else filled your days. Little did I expect it would be both hot and sunny while I was there? Honestly the young people there were as pretentious and eager to impress each other in their dive bars reeking of cheap cologne as they are in my dear homeland of Florida.
The dream didn’t totally die on that trip. I think the fact I was left to my own devices most of the time made the trip most memorable. I was just discovering Modest Mouse and Seattle was the perfect backdrop. I walked across the bridge between Eastlake and Westlake 40 times in one week because my friend Jesse managed a pizza place. So if I wanted to eat on that trip, it was going to be Italian food and I was going to earn it. I walked more in that week than I probably did in a decade back home. It was my first big city experience and I was smitten. Not only did I not need to drive through rush hour traffic, but I could instead ride the Metro and milk the transfers for a full day of transportation. In my mind, that trip will always be remembered as leaning back on the bus and letting someone else worry about traffic while I ripped into the opening notes of “The Moon and Antarctica.”
A big part of my trip (and the final justification) was the fact that I was interviewing for a job in Seattle. I was even offered the job with a pay raise. Why didn’t I go? Aside from the crippling fear of moving to the other side of the country, I would also be leaving behind my Mom, Grandmas, two brothers, sister, their kids, my Dad and various aunts and uncles and cousins. I would say goodbye to friends that I’ve known since I was 16. I would be leaving behind everything I knew. At home, I finally got an on air job at a major radio station and loved it. These were all things I could have parted with. What I couldn’t do was find a feasible way to get to Seattle. I was broke as a joke and when the time came to decide, I had to stick with what I knew.
Little did I know over the next few year, friends and family would move away, I would get burnt out staying up all night doing radio and two of my Grandparents would pass away. So quite a few of the reasons I didn’t go ended up no longer being a factor. So in 2002, fresh off of a breakup, I ventured back to Seattle for a visit. This time, I seriously wanted to move. I wanted to escape the life I had in Florida. At the time it was just a carcass. I could move back in with my fiancée and try to ignore everything that was wrong with our relationship or I could have elected to keep crashing in my Mom’s spare room. For a 26 year old who is fiercely independent, neither was a viable option. So moving to Seattle loved pretty sweet yet again.
What I found when I got there was a very different city. I was discovering the White Stripes on this trip, so it might explain why I saw the white underbelly of Seattle. I was looking at it through a different lens. This time, I was older, fresh off a break up and living in a world were I was fired, bankrupt and had very little left to show for myself. Unfortunately, Seattle and I met up again at a bad time. This time I saw the worst of the bus passengers. I saw a drag queen get mugged and had to share a room with a very smelly ferret. My perfect image was falling apart. Not to mention I was in the very trendy Capitol Hill district where it seemed everyone was living on coffee alone (based on both their waistlines and the price of anything edible).
So it seems every two years I start longing for Seattle again. I don’t know if it was the rolling hills or the fact that everyone under 40 had really cool hair and a sense of style. Maybe it is the rock scene and the fact that Seattle was pretty well free of truck driving pro-Bush rednecks. If you did see a truck with a pro-Bush driver, it was probably a lesbian and the bush she was talking about never managed a baseball team or ran an economy into the ground.
As long as I can remember, Seattle has also been an inherent part of the person I am. I’ve wanted to live there in the worst way and finally took the last $300 on my credit card in 2000 and took a chance that Priceline could get me there on that amount. So one summer 4 years ago I made my first flight across country to Seattle. In my mind, it was this rainy oasis where people left you alone to your poetry, coffee, thoughts or whatever else filled your days. Little did I expect it would be both hot and sunny while I was there? Honestly the young people there were as pretentious and eager to impress each other in their dive bars reeking of cheap cologne as they are in my dear homeland of Florida.
The dream didn’t totally die on that trip. I think the fact I was left to my own devices most of the time made the trip most memorable. I was just discovering Modest Mouse and Seattle was the perfect backdrop. I walked across the bridge between Eastlake and Westlake 40 times in one week because my friend Jesse managed a pizza place. So if I wanted to eat on that trip, it was going to be Italian food and I was going to earn it. I walked more in that week than I probably did in a decade back home. It was my first big city experience and I was smitten. Not only did I not need to drive through rush hour traffic, but I could instead ride the Metro and milk the transfers for a full day of transportation. In my mind, that trip will always be remembered as leaning back on the bus and letting someone else worry about traffic while I ripped into the opening notes of “The Moon and Antarctica.”
A big part of my trip (and the final justification) was the fact that I was interviewing for a job in Seattle. I was even offered the job with a pay raise. Why didn’t I go? Aside from the crippling fear of moving to the other side of the country, I would also be leaving behind my Mom, Grandmas, two brothers, sister, their kids, my Dad and various aunts and uncles and cousins. I would say goodbye to friends that I’ve known since I was 16. I would be leaving behind everything I knew. At home, I finally got an on air job at a major radio station and loved it. These were all things I could have parted with. What I couldn’t do was find a feasible way to get to Seattle. I was broke as a joke and when the time came to decide, I had to stick with what I knew.
Little did I know over the next few year, friends and family would move away, I would get burnt out staying up all night doing radio and two of my Grandparents would pass away. So quite a few of the reasons I didn’t go ended up no longer being a factor. So in 2002, fresh off of a breakup, I ventured back to Seattle for a visit. This time, I seriously wanted to move. I wanted to escape the life I had in Florida. At the time it was just a carcass. I could move back in with my fiancée and try to ignore everything that was wrong with our relationship or I could have elected to keep crashing in my Mom’s spare room. For a 26 year old who is fiercely independent, neither was a viable option. So moving to Seattle loved pretty sweet yet again.
What I found when I got there was a very different city. I was discovering the White Stripes on this trip, so it might explain why I saw the white underbelly of Seattle. I was looking at it through a different lens. This time, I was older, fresh off a break up and living in a world were I was fired, bankrupt and had very little left to show for myself. Unfortunately, Seattle and I met up again at a bad time. This time I saw the worst of the bus passengers. I saw a drag queen get mugged and had to share a room with a very smelly ferret. My perfect image was falling apart. Not to mention I was in the very trendy Capitol Hill district where it seemed everyone was living on coffee alone (based on both their waistlines and the price of anything edible).
So it seems every two years I start longing for Seattle again. I don’t know if it was the rolling hills or the fact that everyone under 40 had really cool hair and a sense of style. Maybe it is the rock scene and the fact that Seattle was pretty well free of truck driving pro-Bush rednecks. If you did see a truck with a pro-Bush driver, it was probably a lesbian and the bush she was talking about never managed a baseball team or ran an economy into the ground.
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