This
morning, as I began moving around the house and plotting the agenda
for the day, my thoughts for some reason landed upon lunch.
I
was craving hot wieners.
As
the problems with that thought slowly managed to become clear,
it struck me that I wasn’t going to drive more than four hours
for lunch. That’s when an alternative idea came into my mind,
which presented similar difficulties…
Chowder
and clam cakes.
New
thought. Great thought. Same obstacles.
Chinese?
Well… yeah… except that the nearest place with really good Chinese
food is more than two hundred miles away. (Not kidding. What’s
nearby is passable in an emergency, but… actually, hold on…)
During
my years in college, I began occasionally drinking coffee. Wasn’t
much of a coffee drinker when I arrived on campus, and wasn’t
much of one when I left. But that truly how I was introduced to
it on a slightly more often than never basis.
My
roommates were behind the introduction, and to this day I contend
they tricked me into it. They bought fresh whole coffee beans
and ground it seconds before they added the water. That apartment
smelled fantastic in the mornings.
Funny
thing about grinding your own coffee fresh each morning. You might
drink coffee from someplace else. You might even enjoy coffee
from someplace else. But if you’re grinding your own, and using
quality beans, virtually everything else is going to be far in
the distance for you as far as how good a cup you’re getting.
And
that coffee story pretty much sums up the Chinese food around
us. It’s ok. It’ll do when you’re really looking for it. But on
the whole, it tops out at around two stars out of five for the
best of meals. Ok, but not good.
Anyway,
we were crossing off the possibilities… hot wieners… clam cakes…
egg rolls… lunch.
It
got me wondering. When was the last time anything in my current
home town excited me?
As
soon as the thought took a bit of form, I began to feel bad about
it. The people around here are amazing. Fantastic folks that seem
to care about their neighbors and communities. Love them. So,
that’s wonderful.
Decent
assortment of things like grocery stores and quick service restaurants.
That’s nice.
The
idea that it’s not exciting is a really far too harsh. I like
it around here. And it moved me along to thinking that what I
was really wondering about was if I was just numb to my surroundings.
Numb because it’s convenient. Numb because I’m not limited in
opportunities to experience it. Numb because I’m cranky and difficult
and wonder what’s new and different.
Would
I feel differently if I couldn’t have this all the time?
There’s
a sandwich shop that I love just over a half-hour drive from my
house. Brilliant place, serving some of the best sandwiches I’ve
ever had. Legendary. Friends visiting that I bring there have
dreams about it, then text me that they’re planning their next
visit because they want to go back. It’s that great. But being
more than thirty minutes away, I don’t include it in a regular
rotation of stops.
For
reasons that have come about lately, I’ve been heading to that
area two or three times a week for the past two months. Naturally,
that means I’ve been stopping in more often. And a few days ago,
when deciding whether or not I’d head over to grab a sandwich
during a trip that way, I didn’t really want one. Yup, numb. Even
the best of the best, numb.
(Heck,
there are people that live in New York City that don’t look for
the Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, or the lights along
Broadway every day.)
I
ended up having a grilled cheese and some soup today for lunch.
Decided not to leave the house. Gorgeous day, set up a table outside
and had a wonderful time.
There
are plenty of unique treasures in my neighborhood. Occasionally
I just need to remember how special they are.