Jim Cejka
Until I retired, I couldn’t wait to go back and live in California. So, when my son (Coast Guard) was stationed there, I figured it was a good chance to do so. But, believe it or not, CA had changed in the 30 or so years since I’d been there. There were more people, it never used to get over 100 degrees (except Death Valley), and you could actually drive from A to B on a freeway in a reasonable amount of time. So, the son thing again, he’s been transferred to the east coast. Why not follow him (now with a family, grandkids, and all) this time. Or, maybe it was my Bohemian ancestry. They were the original gypsies, so I guess I move a lot.
It was a tough decision. I mean, the reservoirs are full again, we had an extra two weeks of green this year before everything turned brown, and the city where we lived is repairing its sidewalks, and the latest shooting in the neighborhood was over 2 months ago.
Besides, I’m not the only CCC migrant. Remember, Melody moved last year too.
Gas here is $2.19 a gallon, it rains about once a week, and I have yet to get stuck in a freeway clog.
So, Garry, you can still play golf in an oven, soar with the 49ers and Jimmy G, curry hopes that the basketball year was only a minor speed bump, and watch your tech companies come up with things I’ll never understand or use. I’m going to go sit under trees, in the shade, sip iced tea, and discipline myself to avoid the use of y’all, in conversations with the locals, just to maintain my WI roots.
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