Boston or San Francisco?

          I knew this day would come; I just can’t believe five years have passed so fucking fast. I’ve an extremely difficult decision in the short-term future. I promised myself ten; but sometimes you eat the bear, and other times, the bear eats you. Greed, the pusher man finally demands his coin, speculation and unbridled lust for profit, the bear market has drunken half of my dream fizz.

          They say that when a door closes, a window opens. I just hope it is less than four stories tall. My circus net is publishing and IT, and I may need to leave the city. Boston? I don’t know about its water supply, it’s organic food movement, or its one-on-one culture. I’ve never been to Boston, but I know it has a deep history and the winters are merciless. I plan to visit in April or May, and then I’ll have to decide rather or not to join the normal.

          Living in CA is good and bad. San Francisco is beautiful, it’s hard to find a bad meal, and the tap water is snowmelt. The climate is moderate, 45 – 70 degrees on average, and earthquakes are just a reminder of change. In the city, mass transit goes everywhere, I don’t need AC and not much heat; there are few insects and a nap on fresh grass is a pure delight. The community is tolerant to the extreme. On the other hand, some of San Francisco’s tolerance has evolved to indifference. SF is expensive, 30% higher over all, and owning real estate is fantasy. Most of us are renters. It’s loud sometimes, and neighbors can be a real pain. Parking sucks, queues are the norm, and if you see something you want in the supermarket or else where, best buy or it will be gone.

          I am not without options, but as usual, just when I get my wings dry and accelerate, I have to slow to turn 90 degrees. I’ve yet to find my Jonathan Livingstone Seagull, and although I know this is the way of life, I hope my dream is more than too-sweet delusion.

Damn.

          “In the spring there will be growth.” Chance the Gardener, Being There.

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