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Heading into a long weekend I am alone with my thoughts. That, my friends, is a dangerous neighborhood to be in….Alone.

But for the glory years at Ohio State, I have lived my entire life in Cleveland, Ohio—-better yet, within two square miles.

Urban flight of the ‘50’s deposited the Bogart clan on the “mean streets” of South Euclid where we lived in a cookie-cutter home built by one of my Dad’s lodge brothers. The house was small, but I had no idea until my college girlfriend came to town and told me so. (I was shocked and asked my brother if he knew we’d grown up in a small home. “Of course,“ he said, shook his head, and walked away).

Why was I the last to know?

But I loved Cleveland, and was destined to live my life there.

Actually, when I graduated OSU I did want to sell Highlights Magazine and stay in Columbus. My Great Enabler and comfort zone were there. I had, however, developed a fiancé from New Jersey. Clearly, she advised me, central Ohio would never do. She would have been thrilled to, and in fact lobbied to move back east. Not a chance! My father pointed out to HER that SHE was the one who’d moved west from New Jersey…none of us had left. In resignation, she “compromised,” but under her breath we did hear mumbling about what a “small city” Cleveland was. (Somehow she survived).

And so it was.

My inner circle of friends also returned. All of them. It mattered not to any of us that Cleveland was in a great business and social depression; we could care less that downtown was dying or that we were a national punch line. Like sheep we came back, (even though it should be noted that Alan left for good a few years later– apparently as soon as he could).

There is a striking similarity in the thought process between our return to Cleveland and my brother’s application to Ohio State.

At my mother’s Shivah the discussion of college arose:

“H, other than Ohio State, what colleges did you apply to?”
“None,“ he replied.
“Why not?” his daughter asked.
“Because it was just assumed that I would go there. No one gave me a choice”

He made it clear that he was not unhappy about it, but it just was what it was.

And so it was that through law school, career, divorce, death, and life, I have always assumed, NO…understood, that my place on this earth was, is and will always be on the shores of Lake Erie.

Until now I not only assumed, accepted and embraced this fact. Today, however, I wonder.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Cleveland. I’m not one of those ingrates that complains about the sports teams. It hasn’t been so bad.

I’ve been to the NFL Championship Game, the Final Four, 2 Baseball Allstar games….all in God’s country—Ohio. I’ve been educated by religious scholars par excellence at Cleveland Heights’ Park Synagogue, and re-educated by spiritual leaders in an international recovery movement with roots in Akron, Ohio.

What have I missed….a suntan?

Still, my thoughts this Holiday weekend are not about the last few decades, but about the next few. My children have fled; their children will have out-of-state license plates.

Maybe it’s time to load the wagon.

I have a good life, but even my “normal” friends that have thrived here think about moving out. Not for money; not for sun…but for life.

Generally, whenever I leave for a weekend I miss this town. That’s still the case, but not as much. Maybe it’s a sign of growth…maybe it’s a sign of age…maybe it is just a sense that I can be more productive elsewhere.

Life is good, but recent malaise compels me to reexamine much.

My sponsor insisted just today that I inventory my career choices. It will be hurtful but I am beginning the process. In concert with this, it is hard not to rethink life choices. From friends, to women, to lifestyles.

And besides, wishful thinking….(dare I use the word “fantasy?)…is not always a bad thing.

If time and funding were not an issue….where would I go?

Logic dictates one of four places: New York, Chicago, Southern Florida or Vegas.

Let’s get rid of Vegas. First off, I can’t afford it. Secondly, if I could, and I did, AND my Mom was still alive….it would kill her.

Then, I guess Chicago is not feasible. Don’t be offended Rooney, but Chicago is still not New York. And although I hate most New Yorkers, I do love New York. Chicago lost its magic when they lighted Wrigley Field, and I swear….I have never had a bad meal in New York.

But what about Florida? It doesn’t take that much to make me happy. A little sun, a little fellowship…I may not make money, but I make friends wherever I go.

This is all so confusing. My kids have their lives. I certainly respect that.
And how would I make a living? And what about my friends here…and even more so, what about my brother?

He’s my “go to” guy.

And besides that, he needs me! If he has to take Aunt Helen every week he’ll jump out a F’ing window!

And that’ll mean Margie will have to drive her. (No, she’s stronger than us…she has caller ID; Helen’s screwed).

I’m so confused. Life would have been a lot simpler if my kids still lived here…But they don’t, and I know it’s true that we only owe our children two things: Love and Wings.

So be it.

My home remains where my heart is…in Cleveland. But wait, maybe that’s the problem: my heart isn’t only in Cleveland—it’s 6 hours to the west…and 8 hours to the east…

Wait! Maybe I just miss my kids. No more; no less. Yeah, that’s the ticket!

(Glad I got that off my chest). I’m  still with my thoughts, but no longer alone.

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 2nd, 2009 at 9:34 pm and is filed under Up From Dysfunction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.