Somewhere, oh, around 26-years-ago my parents shipped myself, my siblings, themselves, and all that the owned in the world from Saint John New Brunswick, to New Glasgow Nova Scotia. New Glasgow quickly became Stellarton, and the thing is neither of those towns mattered, it was the landing in Annapolis Royal at the age of 10, that is important to this entry. For all in tense and purposes, I grew up in Annapolis Royal, it was there where I did most of my secondary schooling, its the place where I learned to drive, its where I first noticed girls, its where I had my first kiss. Annapolis Royal is where I say I am from, when I am asked where I am from. Funny though because if you break down the math, I have pretty much spent a third of my life in Saint John, a third in Annapolis Royal, and a third in Montreal. I like to jokingly say that I am the Littlest Hobo, I am from nowhere, I like the romantic idea that I am a man of the world, it is an easy hook, it makes people think, it makes me more interesting.
Then a funny thing happened. I met a woman, a wonderful woman, who wouldn't you know it was living in Saint John, the city of my birth. My memories of Saint John as a little kid are blurry at best. I have experienced the city as an adult, usually through family weddings or funerals, and the city of my youth always left a sour taste in my mouth. I am a man of the world remember. Cities to me are Paris, London, Vienna, or Montreal. Saint John was too low brow for me. I am in no means a rich man, but I have expensive tastes when it comes to culture, and working class Saint John just didn't seem to cut it. But here I am sitting on a couch of the best lass in the world up on Golden Grove in East Saint John...ya East Saint John, I was from the West Side, my God, what has this lady done to my world?
Its not as if I wasn't willing to be swept off my feet, who doesn't want to be swept off their feet? Its not that I was unwilling to leave Annapolis Royal, I am from nowhere, The Littlest Hobo, I just keep on moving on. Its just the weird irony, or is it a cliche? You know the one that says, who said you can't go home again? Who indeed.
Then a funny thing happened. I met a woman, a wonderful woman, who wouldn't you know it was living in Saint John, the city of my birth. My memories of Saint John as a little kid are blurry at best. I have experienced the city as an adult, usually through family weddings or funerals, and the city of my youth always left a sour taste in my mouth. I am a man of the world remember. Cities to me are Paris, London, Vienna, or Montreal. Saint John was too low brow for me. I am in no means a rich man, but I have expensive tastes when it comes to culture, and working class Saint John just didn't seem to cut it. But here I am sitting on a couch of the best lass in the world up on Golden Grove in East Saint John...ya East Saint John, I was from the West Side, my God, what has this lady done to my world?
Its not as if I wasn't willing to be swept off my feet, who doesn't want to be swept off their feet? Its not that I was unwilling to leave Annapolis Royal, I am from nowhere, The Littlest Hobo, I just keep on moving on. Its just the weird irony, or is it a cliche? You know the one that says, who said you can't go home again? Who indeed.
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