Once I left Brooklyn Mike I slept over at my mom’s place, the apartment I grew up in. Her fiancé Andello was there and we talked a bit before I went to sleep. I told Rita of the issues I was having at her property, property Chi. I was kinda hoping she was gonna say “You know, that seems like too much for you. I will let a property management company take care of it from now on!” That would have been great, but no such luck. At least I tried.
The next morning I went to the house of my father, Roy. He looked almost exactly the same but my sister Rana, who is still living with him, looked very different. She’s 38 but already has a ton of gray hairs and looked miserable. Seeing her looking like that really made me miss my brother Rex. Roy and I talked for a couple hours and I actually missed his conversation topics, especially when it comes to healthy eating. From talking about how it’s better to boil an egg to get egg whites to talking about how toasting bread can increase one’s chances of getting cancer, it was pretty interesting conversation. From there, Rana and I went to my mom’s place for another Thanksgiving dinner. Rana was actually nice to be around at my mom's, except for her preaching her religious crap to one of the daughters of my mom’s friend—a woman that looked like an African queen. If it wasn’t for Rana I would have gotten her number. I guess it wouldn’t have made a difference, anyway. Besides, it felt a bit nice to sit there as everyone talked about Nigeria and the problems that go on there. Reminded me of the conversations my dad would have with his friends over Guinness Stout and Heineken when I was a kid. After the dinner, Andello drove me to JFK and I was back in Smalltown and the batcave by midnight.
All in all, it was a good trip. Brooklyn Mike and Nino made it fun, and the family wasn’t as bad as I expected. I was left confused about something though. As I was being driven here and there, I didn’t get that “home” feeling that I usually felt when I went to Brooklyn. I took pictures of places I remember and saw people I hadn’t seen in years. But it all felt like nostalgia more than home. It dawned on me on the flight home that being away from Brooklyn so long has turned it into a memory. Brooklyn is no longer my home, but is rather “where I’m from”. As sad as it may seem to write this, Smalltown is my… home. Ugh, that did not feel good but it’s the truth. When my dad was on the phone he would introduce me as “my son from Smalltown”. It felt so weird and it’s something I’ll have to get used to.
I also realized that I don’t miss Brooklyn as much as I thought. Rather, I miss options. I miss the option to wake up or go back to sleep like I did at Brooklyn Mike and Nino’s house. I remember waking up in Nino’s house at 7:00am, seeing the sun was out, then shrugging my shoulders and going back to sleep. I miss the option to go hang out or stay home and play video games. I miss the option of taking as long of a dump as I want without having to time myself in between security rounds. I miss the option of… I miss freedom. That’s what paycheck retirement will bring me. Yeah, I’ll have to do work and run a business and all, but it will be MY business where I make up the hours. I make my own schedule. I can set appointments for the afternoon so that I can sleep in all morning. I can go on trips while paying someone to oversee operations while I’m gone. It’s the greatest freedom that any adult who pays taxes can receive.
Getting my parents off my back was the primary reason for the Brooklyn trip. The other reason was to remind myself just how sweet life can be without jobs. I remember a line in “Goodfellas” where the protagonist said that the people shuffling off to their 9-5 jobs to pay bills were like the walking dead. I also remember a line in “Office Space” where the protagonist rants that “people were not made to sit in cubicles and type up TPS reports (work) all day!” I work seven days a week, which means that everything revolves around work. Over the years, I kinda lost a bit of focus on what I’m doing all this for and how it would feel when it's all over. The Brooklyn trip reminded me of the sweet sweet taste of freedom and I’m more motivated than ever to retire and start living a real life.
P.S.: When the pilot said "Welcome to Smalltown", I felt like crap. Smalltown may be my new home, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna like it.
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