Packing Light!

by A. Brown Girl copyright (c) 2006

The buttermilk biscuits and brown sugar bacon are swimming in the orange juice that lines my tummy. Mmm Mmmm. What a way to spend my last Sunday in my cozy, two bedroom, one bath berber carpeted haven. I truly am a city girl with country roots.

Living just inches away from the Stanton Dwelling projects in D.C. (now Henson Ridge townhome community) where this knock-kneed, pigeoned-toed brown girl used to play was a great homecoming. I moved to Florida for 9 months and returned after the passing of my mom. The city has changed. The people in it...lol that'a another story. Well, if you count the white man walking his dog at 6am in what used to be "THE HOOD..." then some of the people have changed.

As I prepare for my next traveling escapades, I decided to buy a house in the suburbs. I needed a place for the things I collect along the way. Sistah Badu never said it more clearly. "Pack Light!" Going on the eleventh move of my 30 years, I tried to be efficient. So, when I moved some of my things from Florida, I kept them in boxes and containers. I knew my time in the quaint apartment nestled in a secret location in S.E. Washington, D.C. was going to be short-lived. So I didn't unpack.

Even though I had an unexpected mouse to move in with the temporary furniture I bought, and a squirrel or bird (don't know which...it just kept scratching) lived just above my ceiling---later to be eaten by a litter of cats who purr through the morning, I am going to miss my neighborhood.

I say goodbye to my banking representative (shout out to Raymond) and that one employee at Safeway who didn't turn me in for accidently leaving with a bouquet of flowers (I forgot to pay...I was rushing from the teller window to head to church...LAWD FORGIVE ME). I say goodbye to the neighbor who called the cops on me because I still had out of state tags and so did everyone who visited me had tags from major drug trafficing states (NY, NJ, FL). Thank God I wasn't slanging anything but books (GEESH). BUT BEFORE I GO...here are my top ten reasons I'm going to miss living in urban America:

10. You can't get a better fish sandwich than in the hood.
9. "My people" will throw a bbq with or without a yard...side walk, in front of the apartment building, outta the back of Ray Ray's Tracker .
8. You will always have somebody to carry your groceries, cut your grass, take out your trash, or pump your gas (of course you'll need a few singles on hand).
7. You never have to wait for DVD Tuesdays for new releases.
6. There is always a dog show (mostly pits and rots).
5. If you're in good with the neighborhood corner boys, you won't lose sleep if you find you forgot to put the club on your car.
4. You won't go hungry 'cause someone, at any given time, is selling chicken/fish dinners complete with greens, mac and cheese, potato salad and a roll (the tea is extra...$0.25 more with shugga).
3. There's always a sale with Hustle Man .
2. The best financial advice comes from the lady using food stamps. She can stretch a stamp and make real cash off those fish dinners.
1. You will always be near someone willing to lend you a cup of sugar, flour, or a couple of slices of bread without your pride being hurt.

Southern, MD, here I come...but my heart rests in the city.