Seeing as how I only have another 11 1/2 months in this town, there are some things which I would like to do here before i do not have the chance to do them again. It's a thing, it helps me keep my focus and enjoy my time here to the best of my abilities - kind of a no regrets kind of a thing.
Movies on the Green starts July 12 and runs every week into August. I'm thinking of skipping Kramer vs Kramer, because it is a movie that I have no need to see, personally. However, 2001? oh, yeah. and M*A*S*H? on the Green? Fuck, there is no way I'm missing that!
I am still up in the air about Jazz in June. I've been. It's been cool. It's fucking hot this year. I don't think I need to put myself through that. Plus, there's yoga class to go to - why complicate things with more than one planned event an evening? I have a hard enough time with more than one planned event in a week!
Must go to Roca Berry Farms this year, as I have never been there before. There was something else, but I can't remember. No need to go to a football game, I've been in the stadium to watch the marching band. That was enough. It was cool, but whatever.
Been to Morrill Hall, never been to the Peace Park. Haven't visited all of the lakes around town - and there are quite a few. Not doing July Jamm again. It has gotten pointless.
The only movie theatres that I haven't been to in town are the new State and the Joyo. In my world, the Joyo is more important. It's actually a part of my family history. Back in the day before children were had by Mel and by Leatha, they were first wed and broke and would save up for the movies once a month. Sometimes they would go to the drive in, taking along a bag of home-popped popcorn. Sometimes they would go to the Joyo. The would go the Dairy Queen on special occasions and cooked at home all of the time. Their office had their desks front to the front and walls of books around them. The crazy quilt that hung in the office in Chicago hung in their office in Lincoln. This town is the town of their history for me. It is the town where my father's mother lived and would call to see if Mama was making fudge. She didn't call every time Mama made fudge, but she never called to ask about it if she wasn't. Here was where my father's father worked at the K Street Power Plant, where he drank and quit drinking in order to save his marriage and his fatherhood, where he is buried. I am glad that I moved here and have my own footsteps to leave behind. I would not leave without knowing that I knew as much of this place as it does of me. But this is not the city of my life. It is not the city of my death. I have distractions here that surpass my abilities to ignore them most days. Every corner brings the possibility for yet another unexpected, potentially undesirable encounter. There are more than enough happy sightings, but I am not of here and it is letting me know.
It's that final fuck before the end is absolute. Best make it a good one.
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