The Beginning Of The End

The beginning of the end is still a beginning.  & every ending does seem to sprout some kind of beginning.  Unless it's the final end.  Then - well, I don't imagine there's anything after that, but lots of people respectfully & disrespectfully disagree with me about that.

Damn, this got dark quick.  That wasn't my intention.  It's hard not to equate the end of one part of one's life with death.  There is a chance I'll never see Lexington again, just as there's a great chance I'll never see Huntington again.  I know I'll never live in this house again, even if fortune returns me to Kentucky.

You wonder how much of your memory is your senses.  For example, I am usually cold here.  As I sit at my computer, when the day is sunny & the weather outside is 58 degrees, I know (because I checked as I walked through the house moments ago) that it's only a little warmer in here: 63 degrees.  I can't bring myself - not when it's sunny outside, when it's spring - to turn the heater on.  So I sit at my computer, my hands colder than my body, but all of me quite chilled.

I noticed this first five years ago in West Virginia.  I'd be sitting at my computer & my hands would be cold as ice.  I actually went & purchased what my friend Suloni calls "hobo gloves" - the ones that look like this:

Because I couldn't type with gloves on, & I couldn't type with them off because my hands were frickin' cold.

I have a feeling that this won't be a problem in Los Angeles, as it wasn't a problem in Austin.  Not ever.  Not even when it was winter, & it does get cold for a little while in Austin.

Will I remember this?  Will my body remember this?  My wife put all her winter clothes in a box she marked "Fuck-You Winter Clothes."  She doesn't want to remember this.

I'm already planning new episodes of Self Help Radio, but it will feel weird not doing the show at WRFL.  My body does have sense memory of doing it at KOOP & at WMUL.  If I close my eyes, I can even see the respective boards at waist level, can almost reach out to where the CD players or the turntables or the computers or the other components were.

I open my eyes, they're nowhere to be found.  At least three places I've deejayed no longer exist - one of them has actually burned up!

The spring here has been so lovely, it might fool me about how cold it usually is here.  But my hands don't lie.  I will go put a long-sleeved shirt now.  & realize - in three weeks, I will be leaving this safe & happy home I've lived in for almost four years.  I will leave it forever.