Hey, Eugene

Boo was still alive. I hadn't thought at all about Boo until I saw her, there on her seat cushion, over twenty five pounds of feline immensity. She was old and huge when I left Eugene, and when I came back, she was very much the same, sprawled out on the same seat in the lobby of the Bijou Art Cinema. The Bijou is perfect- it's a converted funeral home with old timbers and a hokey fountain the the courtyard. It's locally run, serves its popcorn with brewer's yeast, and has a cat in the lobby. Boo is really the final flourish of hip, college town perfection. She's a symbol of how laid back Eugene is, and was still sprawled, hugely, on her cushion in the local cinema. The old, theater cat hadn't changed, the old theater, nor had much else of Eugene.

I lived in Eugene for seven years, and still have several friends there. It's idyllic, but not dynamic, comfortable, but not challenging. It is the kind of place wher you can find as much organic food, cats with theaters, and college town artsiness as you could want in your twenties, but it didn't offer me much else. Sure, I had a great time, but I had to get the hell out to get on with my life.

While I was there, I worked in a bookstore, a charming and dysfunctional little place that mostly sold used books and old textbooks. I went back there, met up with a few old coworkers, and chatted a bit. There were a few new people, whom I also said hello to. The bookstore, like the Bijou and Boo, hadn't changed at all. The same books were in the same sections, and I could have easily started giving customers directions. I almost did, at one point, just out of old habit.

I loved and hated working there. I loved it because I was surrounded by books, because it was easy, and because working in a bookstore is a Cool Job. It's a certain kind of job like being a barrista, or working in a record store, or being a bartender. There's not too much skill involved, but for some reason it retains a certain amount of hipster cache. When I told people in Eugene where I worked they would often say, "Wow, that sounds like a Cool Job!" And they were right. It was.

But, it was a job that offered not much in the way of money or advancement, and the petty politics of the place drove me nuts. As much as I enjoyed reveling in having a coveted position surrounded by used books, I had to get out. Coming back, seeing it all, made me realize how glad I was that I got out, how glad I am that I'm staying out.

I don't want to sound too negative. Eugene is a lovely place, and the friends I saw there seemed to be doing quite well. I'll doubtlessly go down again, to see people, but Eugene made me aware of two very important things:

1- In Portland, Oregon, a fairly large city with all manner of intersting stuff tucked away inside it. A friend of mine pointed out to me that I've never actually lived in Portland as an adult. It's been ten years since I've had an address here, and apparently the city offers a fair amount in the way of fun times. And

2- In a sort of opposite-of-Eugene state. I think of Eugene as static. It's a comfortable, green valley which will always be what it is, like a kind of Oregon hippy fairy glen. At present, I'm planning a career that's pretty far removed from the static life I used to live, and after seeing a little sample of that static life, I couldn't be happier about it.

I've got a lot to thank Eugene, for, definitely. It was good to me, and I appreciate all that it did for me. But, that relationship is over. Goodbye, Eugene. I love you, and I never want to live in you again.