My street just got a little less diverse, as my friend Alex and his lovely wife Ashleigh have departed for a windier city. I spent my day off helping him put stuff into a truck. (There's a Mitch Hedberg joke in there. Do you see it?)
My muscles are a bit more "ripped", my shoulders are a bit sunburned, and my street is a bit more average. These neighbors are the ones I wish I had more time for. If it weren't for my tiring and everchanging work schedule, I would envision that we would have spent many an evening hanging out, talking about music and jobs and exes and future plans.
As it was, we would touch on these various topics in random small increments of time: a few minutes here while I walk my dog past his house, a few minutes there while they pass by my house on their way to a restaurant. Always, the conversations would end with a promise to get together sometime. Come over for dinner. Check out a band some night.
Two years of friendly passings gone by and now they are taking the Ryder truck up to Chicago. What's funny is if I pursue a certain job and get it, I will find myself in Chicago once or twice a week and crashing on their couch. And so, as life seems to go, I would find myself spending much more time with my former neighbors now that they are living 500 miles away. I wish them a safe journey and hope their new neighbors are as nice as me. There's some heavy stuff in that moving truck.