People’s jaws drop when I tell them I have moved 40 times.
In the beginning, I followed the family. My father was in city management and promotions meant moving from a smaller city to a bigger one over and over. It wasn’t until I went to college that I finally memorized my address: the Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority house at Florida State University.
(FSU was a self-proclaimed “party school” known for its Seminoles football team, its Flying High Circus alumnus Burt Reynolds and the 70’s streaking craze. Being a college kid in the early 70’s, it’s a wonder I can remember anything at all, but Tallahassee, Florida was south of the Mason-Dixon Line; it couldn’t compete with Ann Arbor or Berkeley when it came to recreational drugs and radical politics. That part of the 70’s just passed me by.)
After graduation, I began relocating in earnest with most moves being job-related. I greeted airline passengers in Florida, inspected cargo vessels in Michigan, checked passports in The Bahamas, wrote national policy in Virginia, hosted diplomatic parties in Germany, started a home improvement company in Maryland, trained law enforcement officers in New Mexico, administered benefits programs in Minnesota, developed property in California and ran a bed and breakfast in Washington. Until 1997, my average length of stay in a given area was 30 months.
I used to be at a loss for words when someone would ask, “Where are you from?” After all, I was homeless, a nomad, a will-of-the-wisp. To some, that sounded romantic; to others, absurd; to me, perfectly normal. But then I began to notice a pattern.
In 1981, I bought a little townhouse in Alexandria where I stayed until 1982. Then I bought a tract colonial in Silver Spring where I resided until 1986. In 1988, I returned to the area and bought a detached contemporary in Upper Marlboro and lived there until 1990. I came back to DC again in 1997, first to a Victorian rowhouse on Capitol Hill, then to another contemporary in 16th Street Heights, then to a duplex condo in McLean Gardens.
Wait a minute - it was now 2005! What was happening here? Despite all the house shuffling, was I starting to put down roots?!
Well, last month, after a short detour along the west coast, I made my latest move – the 40th – to a stone-front colonial in the NE DC suburb of Brookland. It’s a great house on a one-block, tree-lined street in a friendly, well cared for neighborhood. I love it here.
If you see me on the street, please say hello. Just don’t ask me if this is my last move…unless you want to see me grin like the Cheshire cat.
