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Charlie Hatton
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Howdy, friendly reading person!
I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now, but only to work on other projects -- one incredibly exciting example being the newly-released kids' science book series Things That Make You Go Yuck!
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Getting a Move On?

Now stepping to the plate, at Bugs & Cranks stadium, it’s:

BREAKING NEWS: Water Is Wet — Find out what Mike Hampton has gone and done to himself this time.

And on deck, for your viewing pleasure, is today’s post, following below. Play ball.

A few days ago, my wife asked me an odd question:

Hypothetically, if we were to move someday, where besides Boston might we end up?

I spent the next twenty minutes badgering her about why she’d ask me such a thing. We’re not moving anywhere any time soon — as far as I know — and haven’t discussed in detail any plans to do so. So I wanted to make sure the question was really hypothetical, and that her company wasn’t transferring her to Nova Scotia or Guam or Nebraska or some other foreign country.

“I freeze my testicles off here in Boston every winter, and by summer it’s just warm enough to grow them back.”

My jangled nerves thus soothed, I tried to answer her question. That’s where it gets a little complicated. I know from past discussions that she has ‘exceptions’ on where she’d be willing to move. She’s essentially outlawed the West Coast or anywhere across an ocean as being ‘too far from our families’. That leaves most of North America, from the Rocky Mountains east. That’s a lot of territory, and she was asking me to — hypothetically, of course — pick out a few possible someday destinations in that wide swath of real estate. For argument’s sake.

Fine. I just have a few ‘exceptions’ of my own.

– We spent an awful lot of time in the ‘Atlantic States’ region, back when we were busy growing up and going to school and being poor together. We’ve worn that area of the country out. So, no moving to Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, West Virginia, or western Pennsylvania.

– Also, my family vacationed a lot in the Carolinas when I was growing up. It’s a nice place to visit, but it’s sticky hot for, like, nine months out of the year. I don’t look good with a shiny forehead. No sale.

– I’d move to Mexico, just for the adventure of living in a foreign country. Only, my Spanish isn’t so good. I’m afraid I’d get us bilked out of our nest egg, or inadvertently lose my wife in some barrio poker game. Really, for her own safety, I’m going to have to nix Mexico. And, for that matter, Miami.

– We’re not going anywhere with hurricanes or tornados. Florida, Louisiana, Alabama, Georgia, Oklahoma, Kansas — all out. If my house is going to be dismantled and strewn about the neighborhood all willy-nilly, then it’s going to be because our Super Bowl party got out of hand. Not some stupid windy act of god.

– Speaking of wind, the gusts here wreak havoc with everything from my hair to the newspaper to the leaves in the yard. And the only place windier than here is Chicago. So I’m crossing it out.

– We could move somewhere else in New England — Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Vermont, Connecticut, western Massachusetts — but all those places are sitting there now, and we never visit them. Apparently, we’re just not interested.

– We interviewed in Saint Louis together once. And we’ve never spoken of the incident since. It’s possible there are warrants still outstanding. So Missouri — *bzzzzzzzt*.

– Neither of us is big on guns, high school football, or eating our own weight in cow parts. So clearly, Texas is out of the picture. Also, there’s the no guns and I can’t grow a crazy looking hermit beard. So Montana’s not an option, either.

– “Who da ho?” “I-da-ho!” Who wants to live in a state that’s the punchline to a bad joke? Not me, that’s who.

– I’ve long said I’ll never live in another state with a compass point in the name. I’ve tried that, and it wasn’t so great. So bye-bye, Dakotas.

– Parts of Canada are nice, but let’s be realistic here. I freeze my testicles off here in Boston every winter, and by summer it’s just warm enough to grow them back. If I went any further north, I’d never see them again. So no Canada. Ditto for Maine, parts of Michigan, most of Minnesota, and upstate New York.

– Then there’s New Mexico — it’s a ‘dry heat’. I hate dry heat. If it’s hot, I’m going to be wet. I sweat like an overweight trucker strapped to Richard Simmons’ back during a workout. And if I’m going to be wet, I want other people in miserable humidity with me. New Mexico — and Arizona, Utah, and Nevada, if you’re listening — you’re off the island.

– I couldn’t live in Iowa. Just look at it. A little bitty pudgy state all squished between these long, lanky, wide-open states. Iowa’s like the marshmallow of the lower forty-eight. Not for me.

– I’m just not going to be happy if there’s no major league baseball where I’m living. I don’t ask for much in a neighborhood (see above), but there’d better be a ballpark I can drive to. Sorry, Tennessee, Nebraska, and Arkansas. You just don’t have the right equipment.

– New Jersey. New JERSEY?!? I don’t think so.

– When the nukes finally start flying, where do you think the first big red ‘X’es are going to be? Manhattan and Washington, D.C. And I’ve already seen the Statue of Liberty and the Smithsonian. I’ve got no reason to hang around one of those towns waiting for the mushroom cloud. Or Delaware or northern Virgina, where all the fallout mutant zombies will be.

– Philly’s a nice town, from what I hear. Of course, the people there once chucked batteries at Santa Claus. What in god’s name do you think they’d do to me? I don’t plan to find out, that’s for damned sure.

– Just look at Wyoming. It’s a box. If I wanted to live in a box, I’d have become a starving artist and lived over a subway grate. You could be a little creative with those borders, Wyoming. You, too, Colorado.

– When we lived in Pittsburgh, points north of us would get ‘lake effect’ snow from Lake Erie. We’d get six inches of the white stuff, those places would get nine and a half feet. Now look at Michigan. The whole freaking state is a lake effect. And my shoveling muscles are way too old now for that bullshit. Not gonna happen.

So, once I’d explained those tiny few very reasonable ‘exceptions’ to the missus, we could get down to thinking of a suitable place to move. Theoretically.

I suggested Utica, New York.

She said no.

Okay, I’m flexible. Allentown, PA.

Not interested.

Peoria, Illinois?

Hardly, she said.

Well, fine. That’s the end of the list. If she’s going to be so picky about it, then I guess we’ll just have to stay in Boston. I tried to meet her halfway — but the woman is just unreasonable. Honestly, how do you even deal with someone like that?

Permalink  |  2 Comments

2 Responses to “Getting a Move On?”

  1. #Debi says:

    As much as we’d love to have you back in the state, seriously, we’re still trying to get the scuff marks up from the last time…

    It’s good to have standards you know…

  2. Evel says:

    HEY! I live in Nova Scotia.

    (–looks around–)

    Ok, I get your point.


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