Singing to the radio

Ok, so now I´m back. I wasn´t really prepared to come back, but was even less prepared to leave in the first place. I was Andrew Largeman in The Garden State for the first several days, smiling unimpressively meeting an old acquaintance, looking over their head for the quickest place to run and hide, pretending to have the slightest clue who or what they were talking about. In some respects, it was exactly like coming to Panama so long ago. I even noticed that my faked "I completely know what you´re saying" skills had improved greatly. After a few days I got Americanized all over again, even feeling the urge to drive everywhere, drink bad coffee and gallons of soda, stay up late, eat too much fast-food, and then complain about how unhealthy I felt. For the first time in a year, I actually gained weight.

I noticed it´s so much physically easier to be in the US. One already knows where to find drinking water, the bathroom, a cold beer, air-conditioning, a bed. Water comes from the tap, the bathroom is down the hall to the right. Here´s your room. Want a beer?

My family is doing well...so many changes. Friends are friends, some are growing, some are fading - I´m growing, I´m fading, I´m changing too. Maybe that´s why it was weird, I didn´t know if I should be the old me or the new me. Who was the old me? Who the hell is the new me?

Now I´m in Panama City waiting for my luggage to catch up. Riding in from the airport at midnight last night on an old big yellow school bus, I noticed I was jamming to the music just like everyone else. I got to thinking, "Maybe home is where one recognizes the songs on the radio."