Now he gets TiVo
For a while, back when I was living in Hyde Park, not one day would pass when I, or one of my roommates, would say, "If only we had TiVo". We all liked television, and generally, we liked the same television. but sometimes there was just so much good television on that we were spoiled for choices, and possibly worse off for missing something good. would I have had to choose between Alias and the Sopranos? What about making sure to wake up early on Sundays just to watch stupid faux-Japanese children's cartoons? Indeed - if only we had had TiVo.
And so I left. No, not really. My decision to move out had nothing to do with watching television. Unless, through some wandering way it was to watch less television; after all, I'm still without cable in my new apartment, and indeed, my television watching has gone down. But anyway, my old roommate recently got TiVo. After I left. I'm just saying...
But I found out that a room could be opening up back down in Hyde Park. At the same time, someone got stabbed in my old vestibule. Like, really - hardcore. Shouldn't that be enough to keep me away? Oh, but for the power of TiVo...
Hell, who I am kidding? By and large I don't give a rats ass about television, and to suggest otherwise, however much in jest, is just not believable. Shocking, I know. but moreover, maybe there's truth to the idea that you can't go home again. Am I saying that my old apartment in Hyde Park was home? it was as much of a home for me as any other place I've lived, I'll tell you what. Those of us that pick up and leave the relative comfort and same-ness of where our parent(s) live(d), I think, become much more adept at making a place feel like home. For me, I've spent as much time in Chicago as any other city. And even now, my mom has moved away from the last town I lived in before Chicago, so it's not like I can even consider it going home if/when I visit my mom again.
Is Chapel Hill my home? that's where I learned to ride a bike. And... probably other important stuff vis a vis childhood and development, and blah blah blah. What about Boston? to be sure, that was when my family was much more of a nuclear family. I don't know that that counts for anything - pardon the cynicism - but, you know, first time and all. That counts for something.
So is Chicago my home now, by default? Do I have to have a home at all? Does my home change as often as I move? I've already stated that I've lived in Chicago as long as any other city, so it's on equal footing there. I've also already stated that my old apartment in Hyde Park was home for me, as much as any other place. Is my current apartment home then? maybe I don't know yet - let's see how long I'm here. but in the meantime, can I go home again?
I'm thinking no, though that's hardly a sad fact. You know, I just watched Patton, and there's the line at the beginning: "I don't want to get any messages saying that we are holding our position. We're not holding anything. Let the Hun do that. We are advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto him by the nose and we're going to kick him in the ass." Patton refused to retreat and re-group, always trying instead to push further and push harder. He didn't want to look back, and cover the same ground twice. That probably was, and still is, a smart idea.
And which is why you can't go home again. Certainly not for transients like myself. And I suppose, too, that that's what will keep me going forward. I've begun to get some preliminary emails about the 2005 Foreign Service Test. I so desperately want to succeed in this. But at the same time, making labels all day can wear you out, and wear you down. There are times when the road ahead of me is covered only in Avery #5287 labels. I don't much care for those times. And so this pursuit of home, I'm thinking, ought to be good. let me find my new and next home where I may, looking only foward and never looking back.
I might miss out on some fine television in the process. If only I had TiVo.
xoxo,
ddm
email me
For a while, back when I was living in Hyde Park, not one day would pass when I, or one of my roommates, would say, "If only we had TiVo". We all liked television, and generally, we liked the same television. but sometimes there was just so much good television on that we were spoiled for choices, and possibly worse off for missing something good. would I have had to choose between Alias and the Sopranos? What about making sure to wake up early on Sundays just to watch stupid faux-Japanese children's cartoons? Indeed - if only we had had TiVo.
And so I left. No, not really. My decision to move out had nothing to do with watching television. Unless, through some wandering way it was to watch less television; after all, I'm still without cable in my new apartment, and indeed, my television watching has gone down. But anyway, my old roommate recently got TiVo. After I left. I'm just saying...
But I found out that a room could be opening up back down in Hyde Park. At the same time, someone got stabbed in my old vestibule. Like, really - hardcore. Shouldn't that be enough to keep me away? Oh, but for the power of TiVo...
Hell, who I am kidding? By and large I don't give a rats ass about television, and to suggest otherwise, however much in jest, is just not believable. Shocking, I know. but moreover, maybe there's truth to the idea that you can't go home again. Am I saying that my old apartment in Hyde Park was home? it was as much of a home for me as any other place I've lived, I'll tell you what. Those of us that pick up and leave the relative comfort and same-ness of where our parent(s) live(d), I think, become much more adept at making a place feel like home. For me, I've spent as much time in Chicago as any other city. And even now, my mom has moved away from the last town I lived in before Chicago, so it's not like I can even consider it going home if/when I visit my mom again.
Is Chapel Hill my home? that's where I learned to ride a bike. And... probably other important stuff vis a vis childhood and development, and blah blah blah. What about Boston? to be sure, that was when my family was much more of a nuclear family. I don't know that that counts for anything - pardon the cynicism - but, you know, first time and all. That counts for something.
So is Chicago my home now, by default? Do I have to have a home at all? Does my home change as often as I move? I've already stated that I've lived in Chicago as long as any other city, so it's on equal footing there. I've also already stated that my old apartment in Hyde Park was home for me, as much as any other place. Is my current apartment home then? maybe I don't know yet - let's see how long I'm here. but in the meantime, can I go home again?
I'm thinking no, though that's hardly a sad fact. You know, I just watched Patton, and there's the line at the beginning: "I don't want to get any messages saying that we are holding our position. We're not holding anything. Let the Hun do that. We are advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto him by the nose and we're going to kick him in the ass." Patton refused to retreat and re-group, always trying instead to push further and push harder. He didn't want to look back, and cover the same ground twice. That probably was, and still is, a smart idea.
And which is why you can't go home again. Certainly not for transients like myself. And I suppose, too, that that's what will keep me going forward. I've begun to get some preliminary emails about the 2005 Foreign Service Test. I so desperately want to succeed in this. But at the same time, making labels all day can wear you out, and wear you down. There are times when the road ahead of me is covered only in Avery #5287 labels. I don't much care for those times. And so this pursuit of home, I'm thinking, ought to be good. let me find my new and next home where I may, looking only foward and never looking back.
I might miss out on some fine television in the process. If only I had TiVo.
xoxo,
ddm
email me
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home