Life’s a Cliche

So it’s a little cliche to be a bit sad and nostalgic when you’re packing up all of your earthly belongings and leaving a place you’ve lived in and loved for more than half a decade… but it’s also a little cliche to have to sit on a suitcase to get it to shut properly, and I did that today, too, so I guess this’ll be just fine.

It’s been a really awesome run here. I’m definitely going to miss it. All of it. From the silly red necks that hate black people with every last bone in their body to the old women who can make the hell out of a meal and call everyone “honey” or “sweetie.” So many great memories… so many awesome people. Over the past few days I’ve been really starting to wonder why on earth I’m leaving, but I know that I had equally strong feelings when I was applying to law school of “Why should I stay?” I guess those thoughts were a little more short-sighted, though. Of course, these are a little more tainted with the immediacy of leaving and the uncertainty that awaits me in Bloomington.

Growing up we moved all the time. All. the. time. This was no big deal by the 6th or 7th time. Of course, we did stay put in Illinois for a while, and Tuscaloosa really became home after a while. But despite my normal resiliency and stalwart lack of emotion, I’m getting a little sad as I put everything in boxes.

Maybe that’s because I kinda thought it would never end. A year ago I thought that in a bad way. Hell, many of you have probably thought the same thing… but I guess it’s real now. My bathroom is empty, what little kitchen stuff I have is boxed up. All of my clothes are stored away in boxes and bags. In a few minutes I’m going to go get a trailer and then it’s going to start looking really bare in here.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past… oh… 24 years… it’s that “forever” isn’t a word that should ever be in the human vocabulary. So you haven’t, and won’t, hear me say that I’m leaving “forever.” Heck, I’m not even convinced that I’ll never live here again. You just never know where things will take you. When I was a Sophomore or Junior in High School I’d never have guessed, not if you gave me 100 tries, that I’d wind up at Alabama. But I sure am glad I did.

Not that I wouldn’t have liked it anywhere else — my attitude has always been that places are what you make them. By and large if you don’t like some place, that’s pretty much your own damn fault. So I’m sure I’ll like Indiana… but Tuscaloosa, with all of it’s tradition, will always have a place in the heart that some (even I, sometimes) question exists.

How can you forget what the quad looks like on a bright spring morning, or how it feels to be up in those stands on a day that’d make the devil sweat as you watch the Tide pour out of the locker room? Or the yearly exodus from Tutwiler on halloween as people worry that some psycho is going to kill everyone inside?

So, so much to remember. Every place has it’s memories and memorable places. I guess some people don’t really realize just how much they leave behind when they move away — especially if they don’t move far. It’s always right there, you know?

I haven’t even left yet, and I already want to come back.

To all of my Tuscaloosa friends: thanks for making it such an amazing place to be.

I hope you’ll excuse this momentary departure from the normal caustic, yet cheerful, cynicism — and if I’m not back for the first football game this year (which I will likely not be), someone pour a little extra bourbon in their $4.00 coke for me.