There’s so much overdue correspondence in regards to this move of ours it’s not even funny. I guess that’s to be expected when you decide to quit your job, pack up and move 1200 miles away to one of the busiest cities in the world… in three weeks.
Rather than say and type the same thing over and over a few dozen more times, I’m taking the more efficient route and just doing it via this journal entry on the internets. That said, if you’ve ended up here by chance, welcome. On the other hand, if I’ve sent you a link to this entry as a result of you saying something along the lines of What the Hell… they’re really moving? Are they crazy? Here’s the pooper scooper:
First off, let’s get the two frequently asked questions out of the way right now:
Most frequently asked question #1: Do you have jobs?
Nope. We’ve got savings which should last for a good while as long as we’re smart with it. Aside from that, we’ll figure it out when we get there.
Most frequently asked question #2: What’s in NY?
That’s a loaded question with a billion answers. The biggest one for me personally though is the kind of music I like to make is a bit… Abby Normal. Minneapolis is great and all, but I’ve always felt there’s something more out there for what I like to do. Since going to New Yolk, my gut tells me whatever it is, it’s probably there waiting for me. Thankfully I have a wonderful and supportive Wifey who feels the whirlwinds of creativity in the air there as well and is 200% behind living there, so POOF. Off we’ll go at the end of August into the sunset in a 16′ truck full of our crap and 2 cats… which will coincidentally be full of their crap as well (and hopefully hold it between potty stops).
Wifey and I are at an age now where there’s a fork in the road, and we can either take the comfortable and relatively predictable road and keep doing what we’re doing like people are programmed to do, or we can take the other, not so traveled one. We’ve opted for the latter of the two. We honeymooned in NYC a few years ago and the moment we emerged from the smelly, humid subway terminal up into the busy streets of Manhattan, that was it. Remember that scene in The Jerk when Navin R. Johnson heard the ultra-white swing music in the middle of the night and he suddenly came to life and had to move to St. Louis? That’s pretty much what it was like.
Unlike Navin who took the hitchhiking route, we started saving up money after the honeymoon and secretly made our last trip to Brooklyn this past July a quest to find an apartment. It was a pretty brutal week of searching but on the last day we found our new home. Tuesday (Aug. 4th) we got the call that we were given the thumbs up to rent an apartment in the lovely Park Slope area of Brooklyn. We received the lease via Fed Ex that Thursday and signed/sent it off the next day. You only live once, so what the fruck… ya know?
We are determined to make this work. If this ends up chewing us up and spitting us back out to the Twin Cities, which I don’t think it will, at least we tried… and that’s much better to me than not trying at all. Human beans are taught to abide by tradition. Well… I guess we’re not traditional!
Family, band members, and friends: you all know that I already miss you like crazy. Fer reals. That’s the hardest part of this all. I will be adamantly journaling this whole transition and the wackiness that ensues as a result on this here blog though, so bookmark it now and check back often.
It’s time for us to live. The STOP sign at the end of our street in Minneapolis pretty much says it all:
Hell NO we won’t!