Sometimes I miss home. Most of the time would be a much more accurate statement. Im way past the physical location and was upon my departure, its the simplicity of life and the people that stay in my thoughts. Reminders will spark my memory and bring forth flashbacks of a life once lived. This process could be spawned from a very deliberate hint like the current fad of some of the west coast dancers and hiphop artists wearing Pittsburgh Pirates hats. (Ill stand there and gaze at the hat wondering why the hell the Pirates when we are the host of the amazing Steelers or Penguins.) As well as being at a convenience store or gas station and humbly wishing it was Sheetz as I gaze at yesterdays stale, chicken salad sandwich marked "fresh" - shrink wrapped in the 'prepared food' section next to the chucked pile of bananas and microwaveable burritos.
Other subtle experiences will hint at PA Life: Seeing a wagging tailed labrador out in the park anxiously awaiting any given command and the chance to please. A Steaming Cup of Hot Cocoa. A rare cloudy California day. The story of a summer thunder shower. A domestic automobile. Gloves. Hoodies. Holidays. Bypassing a sign for a 24 hour super walmart on the interstate and having that immediate comfort of knowing I can get the perfect mixture of m&ms, a plasma tv, a car battery, and a floor lamp all on a whim at any given time . Cheesy pop remixes labeled as House Music.
All said, my most favorite memory would be a quick, crisp chill in the air from the Pacific Bay Winds, just long enough to remind me of the northeastern early autumn season. The vast array of earth toned colors mark the landscape like a box of brand new Crayolas - Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Brown, and every color in between. The warm turned cooling air. Indirect, fading sunlight. Football season. Early Nights. November snow flakes that disappear upon contact with Mother Nature's Core. Watching the progression of summer life fade slowly from lush and lively green to a warm and comforting brown, then slowly towards the emptiness of winter's grey - all with the falling of a naked oak's foliage slowly rocking itself to earth and crunching under my Nikes. If its not too cold or wet I just may crack a smile. But in the northeast, who has time to smile..........we got shit to do.
Life moves forward.
A little video tribute to Pennsylvania:
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