Smaller and smaller

There's nothing like going out into the world to make you realize how small the community you live in really is. Now that I've been back for a few weeks so many things are constantly reminding me of this fact. Every time I mention my amazement at how small Portland really is people nod their heads knowingly and invariably say the one adage that has become like a mantra echoing in my brain:

"Portland. Big city: small town".

From the moment I returned, I saw customers who I recognize from New Comic Book Wednesdays. I run into people I've known from various jobs that I've held over the years. People who I never thought I'd see or hear from again are popping up everywhere I go or, stranger than that, end up being friends of people I've known for years. The other day, the wife and I went to Deschutes Brewing for lunch and my old manager from Pizzacato in Vancouver was our waitress. She tells me that she and this guy I used to work with a million years ago still kick it on the weekends. I haven't spoke or thought of either of them in over a decade-and-a-half. Bizarre.

Ok. Some of you out there might be thinking, "Well, yeah. That's how communities work, Dan. People get to know people and then they know people and so on and so on and so on. It's called 'society', dumbass! What's your point?"

The point is this. As silly as it may sounds, I moved to this city looking for a sense of anonymity. Way back when, over a thousand eons ago, I came like a pilgrim to a new land of possibilities far from the burnt ashes of my past. I built myself a neat, tidy little empire where I could escape from the diabolical clutches of Suburbia for ever and ever. Oh sure, I made friends. Heck, I even kept some of the ones I knew from those long ago days, though time and circumstance may have somewhat altered the dynamic of those relationships as we all have grown through the years. But still... I carved out a niche and called it my own. I maintained and supported Fort Tabayoyon for always and forever, Amen. I walked these city streets for years without ever being recognized once.

It was glorious.

But the years pass by. And more and more I realize now how small my little kingdom really is. This is disconcerting, in many ways. But it's also an eye-opening reminder that no matter how far you run, the past never goes away. It's juvenile to think that outrunning it is even possible. But, then again, my wife can attest to how much of a juvenile I am... just ask her :)

I dunno. I guess if I am going to live here, I guess I should just grow up and get used to it.

Sigh.

...

Oh, by the way: we got a place to live. Yep, we found an apartment that we love and go in and sign the papers on Monday. No more living out of a backpack for me, thankyouverymuch!

Still...

A part of me wishes I could hop back on a plane to nowhere right now. Traveling and the freedom it brings has infected my soul and it's changed me in a way that's hard to describe. I know that sounds all pretentious and stuff and I'm sort of looking at that last sentence I just typed with my finger hovering tenuously over the DELETE button right now... but damn: it's true. A part of me misses the smell of freshly bleach sanitized hotel room towels and breathing recycled airplane air. A part of me wants to be sitting on the beach in Phuket or standing under thousand-year-old buildings made of marble and glass. A part of me wishes I didn't understand the language. A part of me still has wonders to see and kingdoms to conquer.

Normalcy is hard to adjust to once you've seen the spectacular.

... I guess it's time to start saving my pennies for next time.


-d@n
30 April 2010