Recently, I was at a my sister's wedding. The only real thing I had to talk about in my life at the wedding was the move to New Hampshire and the fact that I made the front page, in byline and not by getting arrested or nude in public in Vermont, of our local newspaper. It reminded me that I often overlook it when my wife makes it on front page (twice today! Go Honey!) and that people don't really read anymore. Mostly I got the "oh, that's interesting" or "send it to me" like it's some kind of post card. I think the worst was "did you bring a copy?"
    Here? To my sisters wedding? Sure I brought a newspaper for you to read for your amusement, which I also happen to be published in! A few times I got the congratulations I was looking for. Call me shallow, but a writer likes to hear that every once and awhile. We also love to hear what people think about ___ article too. Of course if you read this blog, you probably blog to and you know this, sorry for the redundancy. But people don't always get that making the front page of a newspaper isn't easy. It's the front for a reason. I think. For me, I had to write about sexually molested kittens because, when you freelance, you get the story the full-time reporters don't want to do. And really, who wants to visit three four-week-old sexually molested kittens pooping out of the wrong bodily organ? In other fields, you can be full-time and get benefits and whatnot and still be at the bottom of the totem pole. For writers, it doesn't work that way. Ironically, both the bottom and the top rungs can be held by freelancers. Weird huh?
    Really it makes me appreciate what my wife does a whole lot more. Last night, we got a call that less than a gallon of some kind of oil was in the ____ river and she had to go and report on it. This was at dinner time around 8 and it kind of annoyed us. Here of course my imagination was picturing beached whales and sea lions all along the river with PETA handing out white towels, but it was three firefighters putting out some kind of mesh wire oil catching thing and not a big deal or so the environmental people said. The story took her all day the next day. People care a LOT about the rivers so she had to.
    But it's that kind of dedication I don't think people always see. I don't always see it and I'm married to her. She brings front page stories home almost daily. I don't always tell her, but I'm really proud of her for that. It's sad to know that a lot of reporters I know are like her in an industry that's failing us while at the same time people don't' really trust "mainstream" media. I've had friends at church tell me this to our faces and then say, "oh I don't mean you." What's not mainstream about a newspaper? And how is that still not an insult? It's like saying to a minor-league baseball player you hate baseball and going, "oh I don't hate your baseball."
    Okay, enough soapbox. I'm just saying, we writers/journalists/photographers put as much work as car factories do in their vehicles ever day. Writing for a living is hard, it involves seeing horrific car accidents, reading police reports worse than the darkest thought you ever had, wading through oil-spilled water (we might as well say sewage too, I'm sure a journalist has done that as well) for a good photo. I'm always curious as to why people think journalism isn't so hard. I never think to myself, "that metalworking or police officers job doesn't look so hard." For a freelancer to make front-page of a daily paper is kind of like getting employee of the week. It's not a HUGE deal, but it is important to us. I mean, it is the first page of a newspaper that people read... right? Unless you're a creepy obit person.

    Tonight we had a wedding rehearsal for my sister's wedding tomorrow. We flew in yesterday from New Hampshire. Although much has changed here in Michigan, it still feels like home in a lot of ways. I ran into a high school friend who was at Bed bath and Beyond. I was surprised to hear of how many of us are actually still in Michigan. Like many high school grads, we promised ourselves we'd get as far away as home with as much success as we possibly could. Not many of us have done that. Many of us have rather simple lives and I for one like it that way. I do have dreams an aspirations still this day, but they're now inclusive to a simpler, small-town life. Even though I haven't accomplished all of them, and gained a goal I didn't ever have in high school (finding a wife,) I came home with a sense of pride.
    The pride wasn't just in myself, but in family. Here my sister was getting married. The guy she is getting married to is her high school sweetheart. They've actually been together longer than my wife and I were by a few months. I always thought she'd beat me to the alter because they'd been together since high school. Well, I won, but now it's her turn.
    Of course, this kind of thing doesn't come without drama. We forgot my wife's dress (she's a bridesmaid) back at the apartment and we were in Boston when we realized this. Panic set in for a good ten minutes. Finally we reached a friend at her work who drove around three hours to get it to a Fed Ex that could ship it out before Saturday. We were fortunate enough to get the dress before the Bride found out. So while you hear of it often in stories told in hollywood of weddings, this stuff actually happens.
    So I'm looking forward to tomorrow. Her fiance officially becomes part of the family, though he's over here so much he's practically  part of it already. That's just the way my folks are. They're not afraid to let our friends and significant others pull up a chair to the dinner table. So long as you're there on time for dinner, mind you.
    I haven't been to my parents home in six months. I miss this place. I still have some decent clothes here, my baseball and comic book collection here, my little wooden sailboats I collect from whenever I travel, and my books. I left so many books  here. I don't want to take all of it with me though, not only don't we have the space, but it just wouldn't feel like home without it all being here.
   Although home has changed. And I have a new home, this one still feels strangely familiar. Yeah, it's changed, but it still welcomes me with a love that's never changed. That to me, means all the difference in the world. Perhaps it sounds sappy, but then again I guess weddings of people I love put me in  a sappy mood.

By not dating. Something as complex as a religion or faith is too deep a divide for a love relationship. If it were simply Baptist vs. Lutheran, that's one thing. Even though that can get ugly, but a different religion altogether, the moral codes and whatnot are just too different sometimes. Also, you'll have an inevitable "what church/temple do the kids go to?" fight. Just my thoughts.

   

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    I tried to write at the laundromat. Ever had one of those days where the thought or image in your head was just too big for the limited vocabulary you have? It amazes me how all writers aren't geniuses in fashion, architecture, and human psychology all the while understanding more about putting the "human condition" (whatever the heck that means) into words on a page. The word human condition always brings to mind of the flu to me. Now, while we are raping the earth I don't know if calling ourselves a virus is really helping the situation. If so, should we give our planet some benedrol and call it in the morning after we're all dead or should we continue to exist? It makes you wonder why the time I passed out the cyanide pills to the environmentalists decrying overpopulation didn't partake in my gift. If the people who believe overpopulation was really THAT bad just offed themselves, we probably wouldn't have the problem anymore. Or at most care about the issue. Either way.
    I digress though, it was fun and I went today to my latest addiction: the comic book store. It's really something out of the simpsons. There is a guy who turned his personal collection into a comic book store and he sits there selling comic books while watching Stargate Atlantis and playing World of Warcraft (at the same time) when he's not busy. So for someone who suffers from doing too many things at once and enjoying it (or ADD,) this is heaven. White noise, interesting stories from just about any genre you want. I've written about the place before. It's probably nothing to see if you don't like comics and if you do like comics it might not even be that amazing, but it's like my place when I'm on the main strip. I have to go there even if I intend to buy nothing if I'm downtown at any given time.
    I buy comic books because I have half a book shelf. We're not where the shelves went off to during the move. So I feel bad buying regular books. Comic books can be left anywhere so long as they're not like The Hulk #3, which, at the time of this writing, has the exact cost of my last semester of books in comic book listings. And mom said those little picture books were worthless.
    The draw I have to comic books is strange. The story is more important than the artist, but if I read anything past the 80s... I can't do it because the art sucks. Yet, I can read a Justice League just as well as an Avengers if the story is good. My favorite right now is Batman. I always loved the cartoon and after there was a really bad canonical error in Spiderman, well it just seemed logical to go to that character. Some people find the little menagerie of sidekicks annoying, but I see something in this veiled attempt at building a family, a family that can also stop a nuclear holocaust or a crime syndicate, but a family nontheless. I like how each of them fits into the family and how they writers are not afraid to mess with their canon and actually kill a character or replace them (example: Robin and Batgirl.) I'll be the first to admit it's a soap opera with more spandex and explosions, but it's my kind soap opera dangit!
    After the comic book store it was off to the farmers market in the park. Which was the most disappointing farmers market I've ever been too. The one I remember as a kid going with Grandma actually smelled like the various flowers and vegetables sold. There was noise, crowds, and an otherworldliness of being under variously colored tarps harping prices back and forth at vendors. Which wasn't an everyday experience for a kid in Grand Rapids.
    No, that wasn't the market I saw. It was more like a county fair where the population is under 60. There were two bread sellers, some flower sellers, basil, several wood carvers, and a few people selling beaded jewelry. There was a fruit vendor, but he was out when we got there. Not really a large selection if you ask me. I think one of the weirdest things was that it was a woodcarver that had a "Buy Local, support your community" sign at his tent and not a flower vendor. At least it was strange to me because when I think buy local I think of a farmer, not someone who cuts down a local natural resource and makes into something nobody that I know really wants.    
    Tomorrow is one of the other town's Arts Walk. Although I found the market disappointing, I do love the communities around here. The Art Walk is a great example. Each town, on a given Friday a month, will host an artist, poet, or writer in the town businesses and they all stay open till 9. Around here 6 is usually pushing it for places to stay open, so this is a big deal to the owners. The friday differs from town to town, so you could conceivably be within a half hour drive of an Art Walk for every Friday of the month. Really it's a place to support local community arts and businesses. I'd really like to connect and talk with some local writers. See if there's a support group for someone like me who hears voices and characters in his head and has to write them down in silly stories. I had one in college, it really helped. I wouldn't be date-able if it weren't for them. Of course having my now-wife in the support group at college probably helped the whole "datability" too.

    If you plan to move to New England, I highly recommend seeing the movie "Funny Farm" before going into such an endeavor. If your experience is THAT bad, then you probably don't belong up here. On the whole, my experience here has been splendid. The view of a mountain in any window I look out is also really nice. I'm a guy who likes a good view and you don't have to walk far to have one around here. My friend, Myric actually said whenever my wife and I are having a good day we should just take a ten minute drive in any direction and we'll feel better. He's right. The people are nice here too. I've heard several rumors to the contrary and I'll get into those not-so-nice people in a minute, but overall, I've had a good experience with the people here.
    It's hot right now. Living on the third floor of what once was a Victorian-style house not exactly intended to be a three-story apartment, heat rises and keeps pretty well up here. It got around a hundred degrees the other day I'm quite sure. My neighbor actually donated to us an extra window AC unit. He got it from his boss for free and gave it to us for free. While the bedroom is still somewhat hot, it's gotten much better.
    While moving in, I had the moving truck on a two-way street and some people apparently didn't like having to drive by it on the other side of the road. So someone threw and open pepsi can at me. Myric was there and he still thinks the odds are it was someone from Massachusetts. Apparently there's some history between the two states that I'm supposed to come to understand in the future.
    Another time that same day while walking down the street some teenager started shouting expletives at my wife and I. Sometime later we ran into them again and the two friends he was with and they made him apologize. So while the experience isn't something I'd like to repeat it did end well I felt. I don't think I'd get the same niceness of an apology in New York City or a certain suburb of Cleveland.
    Work for my wife has been excellent. She's doing meetings most of this week. So I see her in afternoons. In fact, her work wants me to work for them part time from home, so I'll need a part time gig to go with it till I get hooked up with my own paper or magazine. Her grandfather died and they've been very understanding with time off. This is something I'm not really used to as a former retail employee. I'm used to a tug-of-war for any time off.
    It is far from what we are used to. It is smaller and I miss that busy bustle of suburban and city life a little. I didn't have any money for any of those things, but I sure felt like I was surrounded by cool things to do. Here, I am surrounded by cool things to do, but it's different. Most of them have to do with parks, nature, mountains, and small town plays. But I like those things. The other day we went to a boat launch on the Connecticut River. It's a gorgeous area. Michigan has plenty of boat launches where I grew up, but the view and majesty around me made it feel more like a national park than just a place people plop their propeller-powered boat.
    I also love the political systems here. They all can be summed up in this: leave us alone. It's not a republican thing, not a democrat thing, people just want to be able to do what they do and have a life that isn't messed with by a large governing body. They have no sales tax, in fact the only big tax they have is property. Which is quite substantial, but I think it makes life simpler when our state only asks one kind of tax from you as opposed to three (sales, income, and property.)
    People are independent, but they're also mindful of their community. They seem to just pitch in when they can, how they are able to, and it's enough. Sitting at a city council meeting, I overheard that residents of one town have been donating to help the deficit of rising fuel costs on city-owned vehicles. I never heard that while living in Ohio. That's a new thing to me. A lot of people think New England states aren't very charitable, but I have experienced the complete opposite. The churches are smaller and there is a melting pot of religions in some areas I've noticed, but the idea of what community and church should be is something I think is better understood up here when I talk to people who are religious up here. It's something I've been looking for personally for a long time. Maybe it wouldn't be the same if we had some of the troubles of big city life, I don't know, but I like it here. I love life in New Hampshire. Did I mention there's a old-school comic-book-guy-from-the-simpsons-style comic book store across the street from the military surplus store?