Friday, January 29, 2016

Unnoticing One's Future Home

The move went well last week. It happened in a domino effect: we closed on the house an hour after our (former) house was purchased by our buyers, and an hour before the sellers of our house closed on their new place. Fortunately, everything went according to plan, and within hours we were unpacking boxes.

Our new(er) home was built in 1948. It's certainly not "new" by any stretch, but it's a quarter century younger than our previous one. It has unmistakable mid-century modern architecture. For one, it has that Kitchen of Tomorrow look with original "St Charles" steel cabinets, complete with swiveling drawers, a built-in cutting board, all sorts of cubby holes, and my personal favorite: the spring-assisted, rise-to-counter-height drawer/shelf (probably for a mixer) with an electrical power port built in. As they might say in the 50s: it’s fat city.

I also appreciate this house’s understated appearance. You could drive by it a thousand times and never notice it. It's a plain brick ranch with a two car attached garage. The landscaping is nice, but not extraordinary. It symmetrical, has clean lines, and is simple. It's not unpleasant to the eye, but it doesn't jump out at you either. In fact, you'd probably miss it if you weren't looking out for it.

I rode past this house and not noticed it for the first time on July 4, 2007. Fred and I were at the end of my first group ride. Ever. True story. As asides: I met Munson and Redemske that day. I also gave the flags that I had used on my bicycle to recognize our Nation's Independence day to Fred's son Jack, who was getting ready to join the Fourth of July neighborhood parade as we rolled up. Anyway, Independence Day 2007 was the first day I rode by and unnoticed my future home.

The Murphys have moved in. There goes the neighborhood.

Happy Friday. Thanks for reading.


  1. Oh, man. July 4, 2007 was the first day I went home and told Chris that some dude with flags on his bike dropped me on a hill.

  2. Aw c'mon man, you let me have it. That was the infamous kiss and make up hill, and I needed some merciful redemption from what happened earlier in the ride.

    I do recall that Munson almost ate shit after taking a hidden bump on the Omaha trace. To this day, I think of that every time I cover that section of road