Tuesday, February 26, 2019

There's No Place Like Home

I saw a guy on a TV ad the other day who said that the average American moves some 11 times in their lifetime.  My immediate reaction was that certainly was not my case, but then I thought about theshort-term moves I've had and wondered if those count:

1.  Left my home town (San Francisco) and moved to a dormitory on the UC Berkeley campus.  I had come from a small high school and was not comfortable moving into a big, busy living situation, so I picked the smallest dorm on campus--I believe that the total number of residents was the size of my high school graduation class.  The dorm was connected to another, larger dorm which had a stern grad resident who made me nervous because for some reason I decided she didn't like me.  Sixty years later, she's still my best friend.  The main thing I remember about that experience was that I saw a flasher and learned what lousy powers of observation I have.  A friend and I were walking back to the dorm and this guy was sitting there displaying his shortcomings.  We called the police, who had us come down and give a report.  My friend's description of him was the TOTAL opposite of mine, so naturally I just agreed with her and didn't give my description, since she had a better view of him than I did.

2.  When I left school and moved out of the dorm it was into an apartment with my friend Gerry, who is Ned's godmother.  I don't remember if we lived together for a year or just for a semester.  Fun times in that apartment.  Most memorable was the night we were having a party and someone in the apartment above us lowered a pancake down on a string.  What else could I do?  I put syrup on it and sent it back upstairs. There was a nice Mexican restaurant under us and I had a perpetual craving for Mexican food.  It was the only Mexican restaurant I've ever seen that made cheese flautas.  Everyone else makes beef and chicken (they did too), but nobody makes cheese, which was my favorite.  Sadly, that restaurant is no more.

3.  After Gerry graduated and I got a job on campus, I moved into an apartment across the street from "Newman Inn," the old building which was to be torn down when they were ready to buid a new church on the property.  In the meantime, 7 guys were living in it, one of them Walt.  I became their part-time cook because few of them knew how to cook and I enjoyed doing it. 

Newman Inn

4.  I had my first credit card when I was on my own, so I ran up a huge bill at the local photo shop (I took lots of photos even then).  I borrowed money from my mother to pay off the bill but needed to save money to pay her back, so I moved in with Mike and Char (Char--did I pay you rent?) and shared a bedroom with daughter Tavie.  I lived there for a few months and then moved again.

5.  My last before-I-married place was an apartment 2 blocks from Char and Mike and across the street from a fire station (on the morning of my wedding, my father convinced the fire chief to move the fire engine out so we could have our photo taken for the local paper).

6. After Walt and I married, we moved into an apartment exactly one mile from the Berkeley campus (we knew that because we were across from the first liquor store...in those days you could not have a liquor store less than one mile from the campus.

7.  Jeri was born in that apartment, but before Ned came, we moved to a rental house in Albany, on the other side of Berkley.  That's when we got our first dog, Ho Chi Mutt, who hated baths..

8.  We bought our first house in Oakland when I was expecting Paul and he, Tom and David were all born when we were in that house.  It would have been too small to raise them all, but I still miss that house today.

9.  In 1973 when Walt's office moved to Davis we bought our house here and have been here in this house ever since.

So so far I am behind the average, but I'm sure there is at least one more move in my life before the final one.

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