Fall is in full effect. That tells me school's in session, the yearly routine starts again, and traditional events are about to kick off. One of which is Homecoming!
Many of my adult friends have children that are teenagers now. Tells me, I'm getting old!
In high school, I pretty much could take or leave Homecoming Dance. Since it's centered around returning residents, and alumni, and I'm the oldest in the family, it wasn't a big deal. I never really had no desire to be elected Homecoming King, so I never pushed myself to do all that I needed to be selected.
However, that being said, as an adult, homecoming has a completely different and more meaningful definition to me. I understand that “you can’t go home again” has entered American speech to point out how human nostalgia is weighted with both an inaccurately positive bias ("Absence makes the heart grow fonder") and an inability to appreciate the changes wrought by time on places and people we remember as static and permanent. In general terms, it means that attempts to relive youthful memories are never as fulfilling as during their initial creation.[11] This sentiment is closely mirrored in the final pages of Marcel Proust's novel Swann's Way, the first installment of his lengthy work In Search of Lost Time. (Wikipedia entry)
I digress.
Almost a year ago, I transferred from the confines of Costco Travel to the Woodinville Costco (#747) In addition, I moved from the Renton and Issaquah area to Bothell then settling in Lake Stevens.
That means my frequently visited places in those areas would not be seeing me as much (or at all) So whenever my travels take me close, and I have the time, I love dropping back in.
You see, I considered my life started over after my divorce and I moved as far away as I could. That ended up being Issaquah, and with my sister. Work, for bad or good reasons, was another home I could find comfort in.
I rocked that place for 14 years before transferring. I made some friends, and enemies. My hope is more friends than enemies. My answer was found in a recent visit to Costco Travel because of chance rescue mission to North Bend.
Whenever I find myself in familiar territory I have tendency of visiting old haunts. Out of curiosity, and a grip of nostalgia, but mostly because I wanna see if I had a positive impact on the place and people in it. I have discovered that if people think fondly of you they'll welcome you back every time. Regardless of the amount of time, you've been absent.
I bounced around the hallowed halls of Costco Travel, which I was greeted with hugs, smiles, handshakes, and a friendly razzing. My Dad always told me, if they like you they'll talk you or give a bad time because they care. If not, they won't even recognize you're alive.
Then approximately a week later, friends of mine were at Issaquah's Malarky's Sports Grill. They text that I should roll down there. I definitely have mixed feelings about this joint. It's where I met many people, several still friends of mine, and considerate it my crucible of confidence. This place holds real special meaning because I met my soon-to-be lifelong friends, Mari and Chad. I would karaoke a couple times a week, kinda took me under the wing, taught me to be a DJ / MC / karaoke host, and more!
In fact, it's the reason why I post weekly in the After Hours Lounge, the blog for A Amore Events and Entertainment LLC!
Again, the past is the past and I found comfort and solace here when I needed it most. And again, I was welcomed back like the prodigal son once I rolled back through those doors on this fateful. It was a different karaoke host, yet many of the same singers.
My friends greeted me with hugs, handshakes, and the chiding that I knew I would receive for my absence. It's what a homecoming is supposed to be! Not gonna lie, I reveled in it. It was warm, welcoming, and made me smile.
I've had a positive impact on my second "home", which means I'll be welcomed back any time I roll back!
So Seattle, how do you define homecoming? Is it by your teenage children, or by your own definition, or some other way altogether? Please lemme know with your comments below!
Until next week, be good like you should, and if you can't be good, be good at what you do.
Mic drop *bOoM*
'los; out
Many of my adult friends have children that are teenagers now. Tells me, I'm getting old!
In high school, I pretty much could take or leave Homecoming Dance. Since it's centered around returning residents, and alumni, and I'm the oldest in the family, it wasn't a big deal. I never really had no desire to be elected Homecoming King, so I never pushed myself to do all that I needed to be selected.
However, that being said, as an adult, homecoming has a completely different and more meaningful definition to me. I understand that “you can’t go home again” has entered American speech to point out how human nostalgia is weighted with both an inaccurately positive bias ("Absence makes the heart grow fonder") and an inability to appreciate the changes wrought by time on places and people we remember as static and permanent. In general terms, it means that attempts to relive youthful memories are never as fulfilling as during their initial creation.[11] This sentiment is closely mirrored in the final pages of Marcel Proust's novel Swann's Way, the first installment of his lengthy work In Search of Lost Time. (Wikipedia entry)
I digress.
Almost a year ago, I transferred from the confines of Costco Travel to the Woodinville Costco (#747) In addition, I moved from the Renton and Issaquah area to Bothell then settling in Lake Stevens.
You see, I considered my life started over after my divorce and I moved as far away as I could. That ended up being Issaquah, and with my sister. Work, for bad or good reasons, was another home I could find comfort in.
I rocked that place for 14 years before transferring. I made some friends, and enemies. My hope is more friends than enemies. My answer was found in a recent visit to Costco Travel because of chance rescue mission to North Bend.
Whenever I find myself in familiar territory I have tendency of visiting old haunts. Out of curiosity, and a grip of nostalgia, but mostly because I wanna see if I had a positive impact on the place and people in it. I have discovered that if people think fondly of you they'll welcome you back every time. Regardless of the amount of time, you've been absent.
I bounced around the hallowed halls of Costco Travel, which I was greeted with hugs, smiles, handshakes, and a friendly razzing. My Dad always told me, if they like you they'll talk you or give a bad time because they care. If not, they won't even recognize you're alive.
Then approximately a week later, friends of mine were at Issaquah's Malarky's Sports Grill. They text that I should roll down there. I definitely have mixed feelings about this joint. It's where I met many people, several still friends of mine, and considerate it my crucible of confidence. This place holds real special meaning because I met my soon-to-be lifelong friends, Mari and Chad. I would karaoke a couple times a week, kinda took me under the wing, taught me to be a DJ / MC / karaoke host, and more!
In fact, it's the reason why I post weekly in the After Hours Lounge, the blog for A Amore Events and Entertainment LLC!
Again, the past is the past and I found comfort and solace here when I needed it most. And again, I was welcomed back like the prodigal son once I rolled back through those doors on this fateful. It was a different karaoke host, yet many of the same singers.
My friends greeted me with hugs, handshakes, and the chiding that I knew I would receive for my absence. It's what a homecoming is supposed to be! Not gonna lie, I reveled in it. It was warm, welcoming, and made me smile.
I've had a positive impact on my second "home", which means I'll be welcomed back any time I roll back!
So Seattle, how do you define homecoming? Is it by your teenage children, or by your own definition, or some other way altogether? Please lemme know with your comments below!
Until next week, be good like you should, and if you can't be good, be good at what you do.
Mic drop *bOoM*
'los; out
Comments
Post a Comment