Thursday, March 23, 2006

Home Sweet Home


I am not lying when I say that I live in one of the most gorgeous places on earth. I hesitate to even post such a photo, because I curse every positive media moment that this area gets as you can here the millions of Californians moving here each time it happens, but I don't think people are going to flood the neighborhood because of one photo.

I won't post another though, just in case.

At the bottom of the hill you can see the train yard. J loves the noise from that yard beyond reason. I think it has something to do with boyhood fantasies of riding the railroad--either that or adult fantasies of escaping life with me. But what other people see as a negative about our neighborhood has really become a positive. We don't have the endless chirping of frogs outside anymore, we have the endless bell ringing of a huge network of trains. I really love it when they drop a car and you can almost hear the silent MOTHERFUCKER hanging in the air.

I feel so at home when people say motherfucker.

I hate my commute. I mean, I do it by bus and train so it isn't so bad but those are hours of my life that I spend trying not to smell the guy in front of me instead of watching Cheerleader Nation and that is just no way to live. But that is what I come home to each night.

Now imagine the crashing of tons of steel hitting cement and unionized workers cursing in ways that would curl your hair.

Feels like home doesn't it?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

It's pretty alright.

I also feel at home when people say "mother fucker". It's kind of liberating.