Husband and I took a drive into San Francisco this afternoon to view the Siam exhibit at the Asian Art Museum. As we bounced our way down 9th Street...taking 42 minutes to travel only one mile...we commented about how there is very little that we will truly miss when we move.

There was an erratic street person screaming obsenities at the cars trapped in bumper to bumper traffic. The ever-so-quaint Stud bar that is painted bright purple and red with a disco ball atop the roof. The $4.00 per 20 minutes parking garage with the $24.00 total price cap. And the urine puddles on the stairs ouside the garage. That was my favorite part.

Twenty years ago I was estatic to live near the city. It felt vibrant. It was the largest city that I had ever seen at that point. I remember looking at the skyline and thinking about the hundreds, no thousands of opportunities inside each of those office windows. And I wanted a piece of it.

Now, I just want peace. Green grass, blue skies, families out and about. I'm tired of the panhandlers, the drug addicts, the people who spit on the car if you cross over the line into the crosswalk at the stoplight. I'll miss the museums, but I won't miss the quagmire that we have to navigate through to get to them.

Sigh. Maybe I'm just getting old?