Ever since I was a small child, I remember driving down my street, waving, and our neighbors would give us a quick wave and a smile in return. I love that. I live at the end of a small street, hills at your feet and the trees cover over you like you are in a blanket of safety. Home is where the heart is. I love my home, I love living in Nevada City, and I love the people around me. Throughout my childhood, those waves from my neighbors meant that I was home.
Over the past few years, older folk have left our street, and twenty something hipsters have taken their place. I hear bongo drums late at night and will drive down my street the next morning to see entire trash cans full of empty alcohol containers. I have no problem with this. I actually sort of expect it from late twenty year olds living in down town Nevada City. I just wish they would wave at me.
As I came home every weekend this summer, I hoped and prayed for the hipsters to wave and smile at me as I came home. I guess I have this secret expectation that I will be greeted like Edward was at the end of Big Fish. Sure it won't ever happen, but I wish these hipsters would just wave at me. I miss that a lot.
It sort of feels as though this new style of person has taken over our street and turned it into an impersonal thing. I have been living at this house for 15 years now, and for the first time, I feel like an outsider.
From the movie, Garden State.
Andrew: You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone.
Sam: I still feel at home in my house.
Andrew: You'll see one day when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place.