Swansong Corpus Christi, Pt. II

C'mon, it's not all that bad. The grass has always been greener on the other side. On my last diatribe, I was Captain Poopipants. But I really should put all of this criticism to the forefront because, when you think about it, local politics do not make a home.

Granted, it's fun to talk about outside of football season when only two guys at the office actually follow the NBA or college b-ball. But when it comes to calling something home, it doesn't matter about silly, almost asinine civic politics. Besides, driving up from Corpus to Dallas, I didn't see very many "Don't let them steal our beach." Hell, I still saw "W '04" driving up on I-35 to the 75201...twice!

I have to default to my father, as he said something similar to this retrospective. Basically, you are never away from family because family is in your heart. As sappy as that may sound, the same can be spoken for Corpus in two respects.

When you live somewhere as long as I have lived in Corpus, the city (no matter how larger or small, how "good" or "bad") becomes a part of your system. You build yourself around the social and physical adaptations. You are aware of the pace of the traffic, the cadence of speech and the twill of accents. The longer you are there, the more the city becomes a part of your physical composition...but thankfully, not a part of your DNA.

And when you live somewhere so long, you know it is never, ever, ever the place you are at that makes it a home. It's the people that make an emotional and intellectual vortex tolerable. Sure, it's a version of the Stockholm Syndrome, but it's much more lovable. It's the people in the office that make the case of the Monday's acceptable. It's the patch of nerds discovered that you can geek with. It's the series of couples that can commiserate anything from the price of gas to the difference between parenthood vs. cool aunt/uncle.

So, as many complaints I can feasibly make against Corpus, so too I have the same amount of counterpoints to the contrary to the complaints. Granted, I am not the biggest fan of the beach, but it's 20 minutes away. You want a lack of traffic, some on down (just be warned to the drivers that don't know what they are doing). You want a welding job, have at it. There are other pluses, but I will be cheating my readers from doing their own due diligence.

I will miss the Corpus Christians the most. Everyone I met and have known, I thank you for helping the sleepy city wake up at the second or third hit of the snooze button.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Red sheds just as much as Loki, especially in my car.
2) You can come home again when it comes to Plucker's Wing Bar. And no, I am not touching "fire in the hole". There's a time and a place for everything, and it's called college.
3) The best way to learn a new location is to burn gas a drive around the whole place.

So, the new base of operations has changed, but the single-edged blade that is this absolute waste of time will remain the same. The adventures will change, but still included. Hell, maybe I can find some new contributors in the 214. Talk later.