The only thing to do as a child was play football in the street with the olda' boys and get scraped up to all hell. I'm sure I have more than one scar on my body that I don't know about. I suppose there was the zoo, but that got old fast as it was every adult-in-my-life's trick to tire all of us out. Every night, I fell asleep dreaming of a place with more excitement.
In high school, there was a surprising amount of kids that moved to Nebraska from places like Detroit and California and various places in the middle-east and India. I always felt bad for them, and they were often getting into trouble, as teenagers in a place with little to keep them occupied usually do. They all moved to Omaha with the notion that everyone in the city owned a tractor and the majority of the roads were gravel. I was asked once if many family owned any pigs and if they were cute like Babe.
I wanted more than spending my Saturday's in Panera and drinking coffee on a swing in the park. Hide and seek in cars was a highlight, though. It had just the right amount of suspense, speed, and trickery to make me happy. Which I'm now realizing must mean I was dead inside if it took near-death experiences in traffic, on purpose, to make me happy. It makes sense, considering it took five more years to realize that Nebraska is actually a pretty great place.
I love that Omaha is a big enough city where I can run to Walgreen's to pick up shampoo and not worry about someone I know seeing me all sweaty and smelly (I am not my father and do not understand how he knows so many people), but small enough to be able to get from Downtown to West O in less than half an hour (depending on the time...not so lucky during rush hour, but still). The number of douches is upsetting, but it's balanced by a large amount of people with actual taste in music. Which is nice. I have never been on a tractor that actually runs, but the one at Vala's Pumpkin Patch is still fun to climb on. I have been on a farm once, and have no desire to return fearing my obituary would read, "death by two ton spotted beast." My high school might be surrounded by cornfields, but it's Boys Town land. I don't really have an excuse for the rest of the random cornfields, but I like them now. Character, right? I've still been to the zoo way too many times, but it's the best zoo in the world. Fact, and opinion. There are gravel roads everywhere, but there is also Dodge Street; the bane of every Omaha teenager with a learners permit's existence. Dodge scares visitors much bigger cities with it's four lanes and five exits in one mile of space.
It took a lot of bumps and a lot of awkwardness, which is still there and I like it that way, to stop looking past what I have for something 'better'. This is what's better. I can't say that with complete certainty since I haven't actually lived anywhere else, but I'm happy here.
The best part, it takes 10 minutes from anywhere in the city to find a road like this to clear your head.
In high school, there was a surprising amount of kids that moved to Nebraska from places like Detroit and California and various places in the middle-east and India. I always felt bad for them, and they were often getting into trouble, as teenagers in a place with little to keep them occupied usually do. They all moved to Omaha with the notion that everyone in the city owned a tractor and the majority of the roads were gravel. I was asked once if many family owned any pigs and if they were cute like Babe.
I wanted more than spending my Saturday's in Panera and drinking coffee on a swing in the park. Hide and seek in cars was a highlight, though. It had just the right amount of suspense, speed, and trickery to make me happy. Which I'm now realizing must mean I was dead inside if it took near-death experiences in traffic, on purpose, to make me happy. It makes sense, considering it took five more years to realize that Nebraska is actually a pretty great place.
I love that Omaha is a big enough city where I can run to Walgreen's to pick up shampoo and not worry about someone I know seeing me all sweaty and smelly (I am not my father and do not understand how he knows so many people), but small enough to be able to get from Downtown to West O in less than half an hour (depending on the time...not so lucky during rush hour, but still). The number of douches is upsetting, but it's balanced by a large amount of people with actual taste in music. Which is nice. I have never been on a tractor that actually runs, but the one at Vala's Pumpkin Patch is still fun to climb on. I have been on a farm once, and have no desire to return fearing my obituary would read, "death by two ton spotted beast." My high school might be surrounded by cornfields, but it's Boys Town land. I don't really have an excuse for the rest of the random cornfields, but I like them now. Character, right? I've still been to the zoo way too many times, but it's the best zoo in the world. Fact, and opinion. There are gravel roads everywhere, but there is also Dodge Street; the bane of every Omaha teenager with a learners permit's existence. Dodge scares visitors much bigger cities with it's four lanes and five exits in one mile of space.
It took a lot of bumps and a lot of awkwardness, which is still there and I like it that way, to stop looking past what I have for something 'better'. This is what's better. I can't say that with complete certainty since I haven't actually lived anywhere else, but I'm happy here.
The best part, it takes 10 minutes from anywhere in the city to find a road like this to clear your head.
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