You're Always 17 In Your Hometown

If you aren't familiar with the title for today's post, it's from a song by Cross Canadian Ragweed. I have found that for me, it seems to hold true. That, of course, means that I am perpetually 17 years old. That seems about right to me, until I swing past a mirror and am smacked in the face with reality. Somehow there are times when I am almost surprised that the person looking back at my reflection isn't sporting a Brian of London-Flock of Seagulls mullet from 1984. I live and work where I spent my growing up years, so I am constantly seeing people and places that are part of my present day life, as well as, some that have been in my life for decades. For some, that fact may seem a bit small minded. I certainly would never describe myself as worldly, or a major traveler.I just like it here, so here I have stayed. Whether it is odd to some, wearing a combination of red and green year round, is completely natural for me. I rather enjoy it. On a daily basis, I drive down the same streets that I did when I first learned to drive. A memory on every corner. I find something  about that comforting. I think many people that I grew up with have found that this area is a great place to live as an adult. I am constantly amazed by the numbers of people who have returned. I guess you can go home again. Tonight I am going to dinner with a friend from high school. We will talk about what is going on in our lives right now, but eventually we will drift into a conversation about how many people may, or may not have, wet their pants while riding in my car during high school, or about singing "Sledgehammer" at the top of our lungs while driving to the Galleria to shop, because their wasn't a mall here...back in the day. I just love that I get to spend time with so many people that have known me and cared for me for years. We have all seen each other go through the good and bad. A few nights ago, I was sharing a meal with a dude from high school that I hang out with and we remarked that it was really neat that although we didn't really "know" each other for a quarter of a century, we can share a memory from when we were 12. You know, like how people  used to hang out at the Wharf, go ice skating, shop at Jamails, and eat pizza at Chubby Bumpkins...when there was a helipad right off of the Parkway before the bridge, how we went to the "Bottom of the Lake" festival before they filled the lake up with water and how we stood on the bottom, looking up to the dragon on a big concrete slab. I also cherish the many friends that I have made here since getting a little "longer in the tooth". As the saying goes, "make new friends, but keep the old...one is silver, the other is gold". The way I see it, each and every one of my friends is cherished and I just consider them all.... platinum.