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September 29, 2006

Friday Shuffle - The We Are the Champions of Nerdiness Edition

There's much to write about, but there hasn't been time to write it. So, early this Friday morning - before making my coffee, even - I've picked the shortest item of interest from the past few days to share with you.

What it amounts to, in brief, is that I'm a gigantic nerd who probably shouldn't be allowed to make major adult decisions.

While Clara Jane was in daycare yesterday, I returned to the town where we're planning to move - let' call it Pretty Town, shall we? - in an attempt to reenergize my gumption about this move. I had several other neighborhoods to explore. Also, I wanted to check out the coffeehouse we found on Sunday. That's right - a coffeehouse! One of the things on our teeny-tiny list of misgivings about moving to Pretty Town was the lack of professionally-prepared coffee beverages.

Yes, we're that petty.

My experience at the coffeehouse was thus: I purchased a perfectly-made latte made with fair trade, organic beans for about a dollar less than I usually pay. When the owner saw the real estate magazine clutched in my paw, she asked where I was from, was I planning to relocate, etc? When I told her the brief version - the version in which I don't use the phrase "goddamn dune buggies" more than four times - she squealed, "Oh, come over come over come over come over! You'll love it!"

Cynic that I am, she was probably excited because she could see the fine oily espresso bean residue that coats my skin and was seeing some major dollar signs. Whatever. There's good coffee for cheap in a lovely setting.

The house-hunting was much more encouraging than Sunday's venture. Basically, I drove up and down streets with a notebook, eyes peeled for "for sale" signs. Then I came home and looked up the houses for prices and details. There's a lot of nice stuff in our paltry price range.

An aside: if there's one single industry that should benefit from the internet, it should be the real estate business. Having the ability to show houses via photos and video without having to set up appointments and haul clients all over creation? That's awesome! So why is it there isn't a real estate web site in existance that features decent photos? I went to one yesterday that had eight photos of the house, and every single one of them was a thumbnail. Apparently it's a dollhouse. Oh! And my favorite! In one listing, the photo of the living room has the couch as the focal point. As in, "Here's a picture of the couch. It's not for sale". Another had part of a room obscured by the photographer's thumb. Probably hiding the pile of broken crack pipes on the floor. I've spent so much time looking at bad real estate photography recently that I've tinkered with the idea of starting a web ode to the subject. But I barely have time to maintain this web presence. If you want to steal my bad real estate photography web page idea, run with it. I promise I'll visit it at least three times a week.

But I digress.

One thing happened yesterday that left me so happy, so giddy, so ready to rush home and start packing. And it's without a doubt the stupidest thing in the world and illustrates that I'm not mature enough to make adult decisions because I'm probably using the wrong criteria.

While driving past a local restaurant, I almost crashed my truck when I read this on their marquee:

Happy birthday Bob Tweedy!

Who is Bob Tweedy, you ask? Why, he's the father of Pretty Town's favorite son, Jeff Tweedy, lead singer of my favorite band, Wilco, of course!

Judging from the size of that sign, I think Bob might be more popular than his son in their hometown. All of my friends who already live in Pretty Town just look at me and say, "Who?" when I mentioned Wilco, proof that my friends aren't nerds and a nerd like me should be grateful for their company, which I am.

But that sign made me so stupidly giddy, and I have no idea why. We are not moving to Pretty Town for a damn band! It's been well over a decade since anyone from the band has lived there. It's not like we're moving there so I can increase my chances of bumping into one of the members in the produce aisle at the grocery store. We're moving there for the lovely small-town atmosphere, beautiful houses, the good cost of living, the thriving locally-owned businesses, the abundant community spirit, the schools, the access to the commuter trains that will keep B.'s commute about the same as it is now.

But maybe those things, or at least some of them, played a part in leading Tweedy (the younger one, not the birthday boy) to writing songs that speak to me in a way few other songs have. Maybe that's why it's already starting to feel like home. Some untangible thing, this sense of place that has nothing to do with property values and curb appeal, that makes me know that this is the place where I want to be.

Which is exactly why teenage girls aren't allowed to buy houses. Any mortgage money stupidly loaned to them would get spent on hovels in close proximity to the teen idol du jour's boyhood home.

It doesn't help that, if I have my iPod on shuffle when I go to Pretty Town, it inevitably shuffles up Uncle Tupelo. It's a sign! It's a sign that I'm a terminal nerd!

Posted by Robin at September 29, 2006 08:28 AM

Comments

Posted by: Jodi at September 29, 2006 10:09 AM

Posted by: Debbie at September 29, 2006 10:23 AM

Posted by: mary at September 29, 2006 10:30 AM

Posted by: Blossom's Dad's Ho at September 29, 2006 10:33 AM

Posted by: Dixie at September 29, 2006 05:38 PM

Posted by: Annie at September 29, 2006 09:47 PM

Posted by: michelle/weaker vessel at September 29, 2006 11:33 PM

Posted by: Lori at September 30, 2006 07:57 AM

Posted by: Katya at September 30, 2006 08:39 AM

Posted by: Lucinda at October 2, 2006 12:19 PM