Who Else Needs to Get Away?

If you’ve read any of my previous blogs, you might recognize me…I’m the dude from SoCal!   However, I’ve spent over half my life in beautiful Northern California.  Truth be told, California should be divided into two separate states; I mean, who needs Los Angeles, right?    A great place to visit…but I wouldn’t want to live there again.

I live and work in a small, rural town in the Sierra Foothills about 25 miles east of Sacramento.  It’s quiet, simple, laid back and suits my easy-going personality to a tee; or at least I used to think so.

My wife and recently returned from a relaxing vacation in the gorgeous state of Oregon.  We visited a childhood friend of mine who lives in Eugene.  After spending a few days at his beautiful home in the woods and be-boppin’ around this hip college town, I thought to myself, “Hey, I could live here!”   Instead of 93 degree summer days in my ‘hood”, Eugene’s summers hover around 82.  The downtown area was crawling with people of all ages hangin’ in the coffee houses, listening to live music in the park, parading around campus and exercising on the famed track at U of O’s Hayward Field.  I was ready to put my house up for sale. “C’mon honey, pack up the kids, we’re moving to Orey-gone!”

We left Eugene for the Oregon coast and the fishing town of Newport.  My wife, Karen wasn’t too keen on the weather, a constant blanket of fog, which is typical summer weather for this time of year.  I, for one, was in heaven, gorging myself with the denizens of the sea.  Fish, mollusks, and crustaceans…you name the species, it was down my gullet, washed down by nice cold bottle of locally brewed Rogue Ale.  Karen, in a dedicated search for blue skies wanted to drive down the coast back into sunny California.  In our journey, I was surprised by all of the beautiful towns we passed along the way…Yachats, Florence, Reedsport, Coos Bay and Brookings.  Most are current or former fishing villages featuring vintage movie theaters, local restaurants and gorgeous turn-of-the-century homes.  Once again, I was ready to fly the coup. How incredibly cool would it be to live in a different town every few years?  Fishing with old timers, sharing a beer at the local tavern and living in a home built in the early1900’s?    

So, as I’ve ended all of my vacations, I drove into my garage, noticed my lawn was turning a nice shade of brown, in the 100 degree heat, allowed my two dachshunds to welcome me home (by jumping all over me) and slowly, but surely entered back into reality.  All in all, it had been a nice dream, hadn’t it?