Just surged thru me as I’m ridin to gas station w christina (I’m droiding and driving as she holds the wheel). I was talkin to james cobra and thinkin about past present and future with that old friend… I was just about to change my current city from austin back to one in alabama. I was thinking about whether I should think broad or specific as to which city/suburb/town to represent.
Then I remembered when you said you either wanted to live in crestwood or [somewhere I don’t remember] if you stayed in alabama and I remember how that just blew me away; almost as spiritual as finding out you were a trekkie because I represent the legendary heart of dixie by way of crestwood and I lived there the first twelve years of my life and I always wanted to move back to that same house in crestwood.
Its the one I left to move out here to clay, alabama where I met my first clay friend, james cobra.
The wave of nostalgia and angst and maybe fear/panic hit me wondering just how many memories and reminders and triggers would come with that old house. I remember the sound of the dove singing. It still calms me. I remember my great grandmother. I remember the in-ground swimming pool my dad built himself in nine days.
But the wave was a bad rush. Not a good one. You’re not enough to cause that level of a rxn. Maybe I’m just afraid of nostalgia itself.
I wish id written this better and maybe started earlier.
“And everythangs a dollar…
In this box”
—tom waits
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