This is the story of my last concert trip for the year, and how it brought me all the way round again to my home, that little place I carry in my heart. It is ridiculously, embarrassingly long.
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What're you talking about; this IS the edited version. )
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100% agreed. I did this too.
I have always been a westerner, and excursions to the Pacific are a large part of many of my memories, no matter they took place on the beaches in California, the windy shores in Oregon, or the rocky coves of the Puget Sound.
When I was 18, we were at the Oregon coast on a family trip. I'd been raised in Florida, so I was used to the beach being hot, sticky, and sandy. The Oregon coast was a revelation. I climbed up onto one of the rock formations and sat there, watching the waves crash into it. I looked at the little creatures in the tidepools. It struck me that this was what Disneyworld, Epcot, et al tried to emulate, but nothing could compare with the real thing.
I wish we could go to more concerts together.
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And I think it's safe to say we'll see each other in line again - but you have to let me become an official east coast resident first!
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