April's Fool

A rather cruel April Fool’s joke was played on us at the TV station by the producer of one of our shows. She called to tell us that all of the guests for a show we were recording on April 2 has asked to reschedule. We don’t have many times to record shows, and she knows that. It’s also something that has, on occasion, happened, although not quite as bad as an entire show. We were not amused.

April has brought something else: the 18th anniversary of my arrival in my current home town. In 1990, I moved here from a suburb of San Diego. All my parents told me about our new home was that it was in Florida. When we took an exit off of Interstate 10, I thought we were going to stop for gas. I was surprised when we passed the gas station and continued on what appeared to be a semi-rural road. This was my new home, and, even at the age of 10, I was mightily disappointed.

Not much has changed in the 18 years since moving here. It’s still a small town with an entrenched leadership dead set against helping the community grow. Of course, many of the people in the town like things the way they are. I believe that means crappy. I’ve made some bad choices in my life that have kept me here, but I plan to leave for good within the next year.

One ironic note: when I told my mom how I felt when we first moved here, she didn’t realize that she didn’t tell me exactly where we were going. Also, she now regrets moving here.