The Down-home Factor

As far as I'm concerned, the ages of 16 to 26 (or maybe longer, who am I to put a cap on creativity?) are about just figuring things out. Figuring out what you want to do for a career and what you definitely have no interest in, what you want in a partner and what you simply will not put up with, what you value in life and friendships, where you want to live, how you want to live and everything in between.

The past few years I've been a bit of a nomad, I'll admit, but I've been a conscious nomad, and each place I've lived, I've made a note of all the amazing things that place had to offer. I've done northern hemisphere, I've done southern hemisphere, I've done eastern hemisphere, I've done western hemisphere, I've done tropical and temperate, I've done urban and suburban/nearly rural, I've done New England and the Deep South, dorms, houses, townhouses, apartments and volunteer housing. And one thing I've learned through it all is that I have got be somewhere with soul.

Discussing this with my dear roommates in Boston really has made me think about it a lot. What is it that makes a place appealing to me? The local flavor-- what I like to call "the down-home factor." Where ever I do actually settle, it's got to have personality; I don't want to live in the financial district of anywhere, I don't care house nice the property or safe the neighborhood.

That's one thing that dear Satellite Beach is big on. Okay, so they call the Melbourne area "Mel-boring" for a reason, but, while the Beachside might not have much, it does have soul. If you walk to the beach at dawn, the boardwalk is lined with locals sipping coffee and watching the sunrise. A lot of times when I walk on the beach, I'll take a grocery bag and just fill it with trash as I go and, you know what? I see other people doing the same thing. Just because. Because our little town in so beach-centric that people want to take care of it. Our local news station gives a surfcast with the weather report in the mornings. Funerals as often as not include a dawn paddle-out. At 7:30 on a Sunday morning, half the neighborhood is out riding their bikes shirtless (and aren't considered white trash for it), the early-30s guy with dreads from down the street is probably longboard(skateboard)ing down to the beach with his dread-headed 3-year-old riding on the front of the board giggling, and people will say "Good morning" and wave not because they know you but just because you're a neighbor and that's a good enough reason for them. Hyte the bagel shop owner knows everything and everyone in town and is considered the population's collective judge of character. Elva, who owns the paperback store, remembers every book that anyone in town has read in the past 15 years. The churches along A1A have signs out by the road that read, "Surfers welcome!" Someone's considered dressed up if they've got clean khaki shorts and an ironed Hawaiian shirt on but chances are that the person behind you at the cash register is barefoot and wearing baggies. Where else can you eat a burrito and a pineapple soda on the deck of a put-put-golf hut turned tropical paradise? And let alone not be able to do so without seeing someone you know because DaKine's always seems like the place to be.

The sinkholes, 'noles gear year-round, not just during football season, The Palace, Spanish moss, the local music scene, Canopy Road, the Park Street farmer's market, SoulVeg, Lake Ella and, of course, El Tap all gave Tallahassee some down-home points, as well. I've even heard people from out of town talking about The Strip.

So, as much as I'll complain that the Bamboo Theater isn't playing every Tuesday & Sunday anymore, the bowling alley was hurricaned and the 5th Ave shaved ice, Java Surf, totally sold out becoming a real cafe, Beachside certainly isn't the worst place to be. At least it takes pride in what it's got. And, if all else fails, at least I'm only 2 blocks from the beach.