hippies at heart

Kel went to the Oregon Country Fair last week outside Eugene. It was emotional for her because it was her first time back since we were in high school.

The country fair remains uncommercialized. Still held on private land. Still has plenty of available drugs. Beautiful hippie girls going topless with painted breasts. Music that makes you want to gig. They camped overnight and found what they needed behind the canopy of an old tree.

I’m a hippie at heart, said Kel, and my heart swelled at the thought. Because I feel it too, every time I’m in Eugene. Righteous anger at everything that’s inside the norm. A town without political diffidence. Deadheads ejected from motels not from partying but from tie-dyeing t-shirts in the bathtubs. I still reject the thought of buying a tie-dyed t-shirt. Turn my nose up at the too-perfect dye matches available in the mall.

The last time I went to the country fair I had an experience that will stay with me always. Next year, she said to me. Next year, we’ll go together. I can’t wait.

I wrote this last summer, after I returned home from my usual bi-annual pilgrimage to Oregon. Over the last few days, I’ve signed my new lease and scheduled my move to Portland. I leave in a little less than two weeks’ time. It’s been a long road to get me to this place. With a lot of friends that I’ll always cherish. Memories that I’ll never forget.

The blog will continue. There might be a hiccup or two while I am getting settled, and the name will change to reflect my new digs, but it will still be the same old Lisa… living in a new town and having all new adventures. With, I’m sure, plenty to write about. Many local bloggers had much good advice about how to handle the transition. As with all of the blog format changes I have put you through, it will take a little time to get organized. But I can promise you, it will be worth the wait.

When it came time to get really ready to move, I had a lot of anxious moments. It costs so much more to live in Portland. What if I get a place and find out the local crack den is next door? What if I move and my huge family engulfs me? What if, what if, what if… But somehow, it’s all working out. Like it was meant to be. Finally. Everything is falling into place.

I’m going home.