Well, it can finally be officially announced: We are moving back to Minnesota next month.
See, it's like this: when I moved out here, I had stars in my eyes and a head fulla stupid dreams. I had this mental picture of LA life that was a composite of what I'd seen on television and what I knew from my *very, very few* visits out here -- I figured it would consist mostly of sitting around a pool with a tropical drink in my hand and my laptop on my lap, doing very important artistic things while enjoying a life of stress-free, peaceful contemplation. In stunning contrast to my life before I left Minneapolis, which basically was comprised of a shitty job that made me want to bash my own skull in, a lot of drama from mah baby mama, and a lotta cold weather -- a lotta cold weather -- it sounded like something close to heaven.
But then a funny thing happened on the way to the forum: I got my heart broken. In a million, billion pieces. It's like -- you're gonna run a long-distance race. You're at the starting line. The guy's got the gun up in the air, he's ready to fire. And then some guy comes rushing out of the crowd and KICKS YOU IN THE NUTS, REALLY HARD. BANG! GO! RUN! It sets you waythehellback, y'know? I can honestly say, with no reservation: the worst pain I've ever felt in my entire life. Bar none.
But in the midst of all that Trixi and I fell in love, and you know the rest of the story. We were two people with our hearts broken in a billion pieces. And as I'm fond of saying it doesn't make it all better -- you still gotta heal on your own terms. You gotta find your own way to peace. It takes time. It ain't magic. But it does help when you do it together. It helps a lot.
So we rebuilt, right? And this next point is an important one to get across to a few people, especially the person who thinks I "blew it, famously" and the one who thinks I'm not quite smart or clever enough to cut it, or the one who thinks Trixi's, like, some dippy airhead, or the dorks from Trixi's last job in Minneapolis -- guess what? We DID fucking make it out here. If I'd stayed, I woulda been a Creative Director at my company, which by the way is the best job I've yet had (holla to my work peeps, esp. Andrew -- keep fightin' the man, brotha!). And if Trixi'd stayed, she woulda had a career either in the costume department of a Major Television Show or as a producer, 'cause she got actual OFFERS to do that stuff, and like twenty go-to people in the industry said that's what she *should* be doing. And I found a band out here made up of three of the most talented people I've ever met, and the kindest too -- if somebody doesn't give a band featuring Patrick Cleary and Cheryl Caddick a record deal in the next few years there is no justice in the world. And we made good, good, GOOD friends out here -- I reconnected with a friend from the "olden days" who is now one of my best friends ever. And our homeys Loren, Prince, Gabe, Donovan, Joanne -- I love them like I love my own family. And props to mah homegirl Ash too -- we'll miss her!
So, look, that's not it, okay? Important point to stress. Not moving because we "couldn't hack LA." Although if I never EVER have to drive on an LA freeway again, it'll be too soon. And yeah, as beautiful as LA is, there's stuff here that drives me batty. Like: the crazy people. There's just lots of 'em. It's like I'm working at Ralph and Jerry's in Dinkytown 24-7, and that'll make sense to the three people (Marcy, Beques, Trevor etc) who read this from that era.
No, we're moving back for other, extremely compelling reasons. Like: my daughter. That's numero frickin' UNO. I miss her. Lots. The original intention, just so nobody thinks I'm the type of guy who just galavants out to Los Angeles without ever considering my own daughter, was to get her mom to move out here with her. That simply is never gonna happen. Plus: originally, it wasn't terribly cost-prohibitive to fly back and forth to see her. Now, with airline ticket prices as high as they are, and with two people to go back and forth -- it IS. LOTS.
Another reason is: money. We go to the local supermarket to get food every night, right? And guess how much that costs, just for two people to get, like, VERY CHEAP FOOD to eat? That's more than 30 bucks a night. Seriously. And I have a house back in Minneapolis, too, which is gonna foreclose if I don't get back to it. It's just sitting there. It ain't gonna sell, not in this market, and so why not frickin' live in it?
AND I got a totally great job at a tremendous company as an ASSOCIATE CREATIVE DIRECTOR. Woo hoo! I'm psyched beyond words.
But of course, the main reason (besides the kiddo!) is our dear friends. We miss you. I didn't know how much I'd miss everybody, but I sure as hell do. Like: I miss my Musical Brothers In Arms like Chris (and Belsum!) and Marc and Jay and Ed and Mykl and Brandon and Mike Grey and all the other people I've dug or hung out with and gotten drunk with. And I miss the Karaoke Crew from the American Legion, one of the best groups of friends I've ever had. And I miss my family, my mom and dad, and my other NEW family that I just met a couple years ago (Gigi, Frank, Brett, Charisse, and everybody else!!).
And I miss the TOWN too! I miss trees! And green! I miss the stupid Crystal Shopping Center, and the Legion in Robbinsdale (my local pub!) and I miss Northeast! And I miss THE DALES! And the warehouse district! And Uptown! I miss the comic book store on 36th and Winnetka and Cheapo records where I can get used vinyl for ACTUAL CHEAP and Down in the Valley! I just miss all that stuff.
I guess it's a combination of practical good sense and homesickness that's drawing us back. Either way: we couldn't be more happy. I'm gonna toss my hat in the air like Mary Tyler Moore. You can have a town, why don't you take it? You're gonna make it after all.