Home can be anywhere. Mine is here. Yours is there. This morning I drove through the streets of Midtown Sacramento, early for an appointment. The leaves were the perfect palette of fall colors. The sun was bright. The buildings were more interesting than usual, the repurposed industrial decay alive amidst old victorian townhouses.
Last night we ate with friends in this little Korean restaurant hidden in a rundown strip mall. I expected it to be just that, a family-owned place that looked like every other. Instead, it was a portal to a different world. Inside, K-Pop played on flat screen TVs, wood paneling was decorated with graffiti, and posters promised alcoholic adventures with famous Korean singers. It was both trendy and comfortable, a delicate balance. The waiter gave us all kinds of free dishes and drinks I had never tried before. Somehow we were no longer in a suburb of Sacramento but instead in some transnational alternate universe.
Lately, I’m feeling more at home in my hometown than I have in a very long time. I’m discovering there is plenty of character if I look hard enough. Happy Sunday, happy home day.