October 2004

Alex Suha • Back Over the Bridge

Unpacking is more fun than packing. Packing, you’re still saying "good-bye." Unpacking, you say "hello." Packing, you close. Unpacking, you open. For me, the deciding factor is that your packing has a deadline and your unpacking can happen whenever you want. Or never.

A week ago, I unpacked in Iowa City again. I brought my phonograph and left my spray-paint. Brought my books, left my dog. Left my friends, my camp kids, my parents; met up again with my outlets, my freedom. Said goodbye to a beautiful woman, and I’m trying to keep her with me, too.

I went for a run the other day around 8:20 in the morning. They fixed the Burlington Street bridge, and I ran across it. This town is beautiful sometimes. The water, the cardinals, the smell of burritos. The sound of the Cambus, the anti-wisdom graffiti, the sneakers hanging from a powerline. Running is fun, and I'm thinking I should do it again. That is, on my own time. On this occasion, I’m running because class starts at 8:30. I'm not even halfway across campus yet. "Ten minutes from anywhere," my ass.

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