Friday, May 25, 2012

California Screamin'

I'm having difficulty starting this post.

It's not that I lack complaints about California, I have plenty of those, it's just that I'm... exhausted.

I can't muster the ire to castigate the state on the mathematical certainty of its financial (and social) insolvency. I can't squeeze another drop of passion from the turnip that is my love for this state to pummel the high speed train to nowhere. I can't find a single synapse willing to explain how the variety of leeches up and down the food chain drain everything that was great from this state. Worst of all, I can't even bring myself to contemplate how bad the fall will be.

They won. They wore me down. I just don't care anymore. California is theirs. They can have it with all its dysfunction.

I've put in notice at my good-paying job with advancement opportunities, we've paid out of our lease, and we've shipped out the second car. We're moving to Kentucky.

We're not the first to leave, nor will we be the last.

We've been talking about moving for some time, but had no commitment to any state in particular. Kentucky was under consideration because we have some family there, but to be honest, other states were higher in preference. Last Christmas we visited our family in Kentucky, as we have before, but when we landed in California upon our return I got an odd feeling. I thought about it as we disembarked and finally put my finger on it as we rode the escalator down to the baggage claim. I turned to my wife and said, "I think we're moving to Kentucky." She nodded knowingly and said, "I think so too." And that was that. We left our hearts in Kentucky.

Given this revelation, I immediately checked the gun laws in Kentucky, and found them quite to my liking. Many states that would come to mind when discussing freedom have quirky laws about certain things. Kentucky doesn't have any that I have found.

I want to shoot steel targets in my backyard with my suppressed AR. I want use my Microtech UTX-85 to clean my fingernails. I want to own land that costs hundreds of dollars in property taxes, not thousands. I want to be able to defend my family without getting a signed Notice of Intent to Murder form from my attacker. I want strangers to return the greeting offered in passing. I want to drive to work in under an hour. I want to be able to hunt without researching conflicting ordinances and property lines for 6 months. I want to run a business without fear of the state changing my business classification and demanding back taxes while putting a lien on my business and preemptively draining my bank account (and charging me $200 for the privilege).

I don't want to live in fear that some bureaucrat is going to knock on my door with a piece of paper that says an endangered beetle lives on my land, or I use my wood-burning fireplace too much, or someone thinks I'm abusing my kid, or the tool shed I built needs to be inspected, or my birdbath doesn't have a circulation pump and filter, or my sprinklers ran on Thursday instead of Wednesday, or my garden is too large, or my grass isn't green enough, or my dog looks like a "pitbull mix," or my cat has testicles, or my cigar smoke wafted too far, or my kid's lemonade stand doesn't have a permit, or the political sign on my lawn is too large, or the tree across the sidewalk needs to be trimmed, or I can't have a chicken coop, or my pool doesn't have a fence, or my bicycle doesn't have a license, or I can't have people over to my house to discuss religion or politics, or my car is parked on my property in an unapproved fashion. I could keep going, but why bother?

I want to be free. Or at least, more free.

This move is a big shake-up, and I'm going to take advantage by making some other changes. I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do next, but it'll be different. I feel like working with my hands, or for myself, or in a different industry, or all of the above. I don't know what's going to happen, but I know we'll be fine so long as we continue to trust the guidance in our hearts.

Blogging will become more regular (even if I have nothing to blag aboot) as he California job expires. It became uninteresting and unchallenging, and it ruined me for much else by the time I got home. I wasn't kidding about the upward mobility though, by their standards I was a golden boy. They hate to see me leave.

Everyone we've told has been surprisingly supportive. Hints in their speech make me suspect many have heard a similar call but declined to answer.

The stress of this completely out-of-character move may have contributed to the California burnout at the beginning of this post. All my specific concerns have been quelled with trust in guidance, but some deeper part of my brain can't help but worry. It's stressing me out and I can't address it. We move in twenty-something days, and I wish the waiting was over.

I've been playing around with new ideas and practicing the skills I enjoy. I whetted my appetite for fabrication by spending some time at a machine shop working on a project I've enjoyed planning. It's incomplete, but I'm cutting metal and learning fast. Once I get the prototype finalized, I'll toss it up on kickstarter. I think people will want one... or two.

I'm trying to be more productive with the things I like doing. Writing is one of them, so if I'm sticking to my plan, this blog should start getting busy again. Feel free to hold me to it.

I suppose that's it for now. It's terribly late for the morning I have, but I don't care because I finished this post just like I told myself I was going to.

This is the start of something great. Glad you're along for the ride.


Ry Jones said...

Good for you. I don't miss California; I hope Kentucky is everything you want it to be. Warning: they have winter in Kentucky. :)

DaddyBear said...

Welcome! Bourbon's up by Bardstown, barbecue's where your nose leads you, and the horse races are in May!