Ah Missoula. Home of my youth. Home of my MT heart. I canna help it. The name conjures up college years, summer days, the smell of the river (not too bad, really), general nostalgia.
Spouse quoted a friend of ours once, and it really sums up the zeitgeist of the place- "Missoula is the town that woke up with its brakes on. But that's ok, it wasn't going anywhere."
People go there, and they stick. Even if they leave, they return like the swallows of Capistrano.
I was born in Helena, but spent the first 3 years of my life in Missoula. I went there for school and lived there for another 12 years. It broke my heart into little shards when I left. I haven't been that berift about moving away from someplace before or since.
My sister lives there now. I wish I was there. But the economy sucks, it's expensive to live there, and I'm out of school.
I can't very easily pull apart my affection for the place- I've tried. I am pretty sure it contains an essential element of nostalgia for my youth along with affection for the place itself. It's also genetic. Both my parents feel similarly about the place, or so they've said. It's the first place I had ever lived where I felt like I belonged.
It's also a prime freak magnet. I've told the story of the monkey man and his creepy-crawlin ways. There are more. I'll share.
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2 comments:
Hey! I'm your sister! And I live in Missoula! And you said that in your blog! Wierd....
Yeah- but I didn't say your name. And I didn't say what you do there. All is anonymous for the most part. You are now famous. My Missoula sister. In a town that smells like feet in the winter.
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