Lost on purpose in San Diego

Now that I finally have a car, I find myself getting lost on purpose more and more. Robby or his dad ask me for a ride somewhere, to visit a girlfriend or an emergency room, and I am left with nothing to do except drive after I’ve dropped off my passenger. So I’ve begun to explore the streets of San Diego, a city in which I’ve lived, in my heart if not always my body, since 1972.

Yesterday, it was the Mission Hills district, where house after house made me drool with envy. The view of downtown was spectacular. [Sorry I didn't take any photos--I completely forgot that I have a new digital camera in my purse at all times. This will be rectified soon, I promise.]

This morning I took a long, slow drive home down El Cajon Boulevard instead of zipping back on the freeway. I’ve lived, walked, ridden buses, and now driven my new car back and forth along the full length of this bustling thoroughfare for seven years, and today I looked at it with new eyes. I thought, “I must get a better camera so I can take photos–no, portraits–of every business along its entire length, publish a coffee table book and call it ‘The Boulevard’.” But then, I’ve always had grandiose dreams.

This afternoon, I found myself on the sleepy, curb-less streets of Del Cerro, a fifties-era suburban neighborhood, weeping with nostalgia for the barefoot childhood I never spent there and the house I’ll never have.

And then I came back to this small College Area apartment that we have lived in for seven years now. When we first moved here, I was embarrassed and depressed by this place I called The Hovel. I couldn’t wait to move to someplace better, only I never was able to pull the money together to get out.

Not long ago I was shocked to learn that my son has very different feelings about it. To him this apartment, this neighborhood, is home. He knows every street, every shortcut, every secret place within a six-block radius. He wants to stay here on his own after I’m gone. He never wants to leave–which scares me a little for his future but I understand. This is his childhood home, after all. This is where his memories will always center. How odd, I think.

Well, I could go on but my #2 son just called and needs me to pick him and his girlfriend up in Mission Hills.

Wonder where I’ll get lost on purpose this time.