Can I kick it? No, you can't.

Up in the air

I'm flying out of town this morning, going back to near where I grew up.

I don't have any serious childhood trauma, so I'm not experiencing dangerous flashbacks, or mixed feelings. It should be a good time, and I'll likely see some people that I've not seen in years.

I'm told that the high school I went to has been torn down and replaced, to which I asked, "Even the new building?"

The new building was built in the 1950s.

The school used to have three separate structures, all built as the student body increased, the most recent built over fifty years ago, the one before was built in the 1920s, and the oldest put up around 1890. I think they left the oldest one intact, as it's on a historical register or something.

The new school was built in a different location nearby, so all that is left is an empty field. This is an image in my head which alternately amuses me, and makes me feel a lot older than I am. If I have time, I'll probably drive over and take a look.

"No school today, kids! It done been blowed up!"

The large city in the Midwest where I was born and raised is a great place, but it has certainly seen better days. The area of town where I grew up is in sad shape, I hear, which is too bad, since I always thought it had a lot to recommend it. If anyone ever wants to see what decades of White Flight can do to a perfectly nice area, I'll be happy to direct your sociologists to where I grew up.

I fly out this morning, and I don't know exactly when I'll be taking my tour of the old stomping grounds. My guess is that given my lack of sentimentality, it won't be depressing for me, but you never know. It'll never be anything but home, no matter how bad it has gotten.

And besides, I don't live there anymore.

Saturday, September 23, 2006