"Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.”

I made the trek from Corvy to Portland today. Traffic was bad. It took me almost three hours to get from the Van Buren Bridge on the way out of Corvallis to my parents' front doorstep in east Portland. Derrick hitched a ride. I was grateful for his company. Considering how little sleep I got last night, I figure there was about a 50/50 shot that I would have fallen asleep at the wheel, and careened into a median, had he not been there. Also, though I would never say this to his face, Derrick is a great guy. He is fun to bullshit with and he is, despite the spelling errors in his blog, an intelligent and interesting dude.

My parents always treat me royally when I visit them. Today they had raspberry lemonade and a sausage, pepperoni, and olive pizza waiting for me. After dinner, I watched The Nines, starring Ryan Reynolds, with my mama, whilst my papa watched the Trailblazers game in the other room. I loved the movie. It explores the relationship between creator and creation in a funny and often disturbing way. My mom was a trooper. She usually crashes out around 8 pm but she managed to stay up almost an hour past her bedtime to catch the end of the movie.

After the movie was over and my mom had gone to bed, I caught the end of the Blazers' thrilling overtime victory over the Knicks. After the game, my dad and I talked about my future and I introduced him to the wonderful world of Youtube videos. After watching the collected works of the folk-parody duo, "Flight of the Conchords," he hit the metaphorical hay.

I would like to take this opportunity to give a shout out to my parents. Sure, they have some dysfunctionalities (doesn't every family?) but my parents have always been there for me when I have needed them. My Dad, Keith, especially. He has alwas been stable, conscientious force in my life. And he didn't have to be. I am not the legitimate fruit of his loins. Keith married my mother when I was two and he legally adopted me, with the blessing of my biological daddy-o Jerome, when I was eight. Even after he and my mother divorced the first and second times, he didn't back down from the all-important role of the 'male authority figure' in my life. Though we had some epic confrontations during my formative years, I have nothing but love for the man.

P.S. The title of this post is a quote by Charles Dickens about the power of the idea of 'Home.'