Feeling Good About Norfolk

Yeah, you read that right. I don't know if it's the spirit of the New Year or what but I caught myself not feeling glum about America the other day. Regular readers probably think I hate the place and I don't, so it's time for some proportional representation!



Norfolk was just about the oddest experience of my life, and hopefully things will stay that way. Personal problems that usually have the good grace to come at separate times, to give you time to breathe, dovetailed a little too seamlessly into a period of about twelve months and I was completely overwhelmed. From the eye of the storm, I didn't like it much at all. But branches grow strong in windy conditions and diamonds are made under pressure. From this safe distance, I'm beginning to realize that I got a lot out of it.

There were plenty of laughs - if you count me laughing at my own jokes. I made friends that I'll never forget and wish I had the time to keep in contact with more regularly; I slept with some really nice people (plus one or two that were not-so-nice) and ticked a couple of boxes on my list of things to do before I'm 40; I started blogging; I saw Las Vegas, D.C., New York, Baltimore, Atlanta and Toronto (I missed New Orleans and ran out of cash before Boston and Seattle); and I got a kick out of simply living in unusual surroundings - regardless how redneck or under-developed they were.

Spiritually, intellectually and emotionally, I grew up. Professionally and medically, I overcame some adversity. Financially, I still have some work to do! I'm reminded of the hobo in The Two Ronnies who wears shoes two sizes too small for his feet because the only pleasure he has in life is the sensation of taking them off. I appreciate the little things at home now in a way I never would've if I'd not been deprived of them for 16 months. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, truly.

Next time I bash Smalltown, U.S.A. - and there will surely be a next time - bear this shit in mind.