I didn’t remember I had use of my center rear view mirror until 45 minutes outside of Portland.  Why, you might ask, am I driving back to Portland after making the daunting trek across the country only stopping to eat, sleep and see the Grand Canyon?  To see a show of course.  Symptoms are playing at a club near my friend’s place.

I need internet at home.  It’s the last link in this chain of support I’ve rigged up.  I’m on the west coast, I know what I want – now I just have to do it.  Driving South for the first time this week, I decided it would be poignant to cue up the Dead Soldiers.  The twang in Teddy Gene Mountain echoed off the evergreens around I-5 and I caught myself welling up.  By One More Last Goodbye I was bawling like a baby.  The Soldiers encompass a musical style that can only be described as Memphis.  It’ll take me right back every time.

I’ll be there again this weekend for my official goodbye.  It’s not that I won’t ever go back, I just know it won’t be for an amazingly long time.  I can already tell that this side of the country is my new home.  I know who I am and I get at least 6 months to figure out what I’m going to do with that.