Dear California,
I'm sad to inform you that I must go today. I've been with you for seven years now, but today we must go our separate ways. But before I leave, I wanted to thank you for our time together.
Because of you, I went from a small-town Oklahoma boy, one who had rarely interacted with anyone who didn't look just like me, to someone who can claim to have friends all over the world. I've learned to be more humble in assuming my perspective is the only or the right perspective.
Because of you, my culinary interests have expanded to include food that I had never even heard of until I got here. I've tried food from all over the world. More than the food, though, I've learned to value how central table fellowship is to healthy human relationships. Sharing a meal is an intimate endeavor.
Because of you, I learned how amazing a good, cold IPA is—and how terrible the cheap, yellow stuff is. I had no idea that beer was so much more complex than wine. Where I grew up, it was Bud, Coors, and Miller. Yuck. (Of course, I haven't had a drink since October; but still.)
Because of you, I discovered how essential the mountains are to my well-being. I had barely even seen real mountain trails before you; now, I travel on them almost daily. If it weren't for long trail runs, my dissertation as well as many sermons would have looked much different.
Because of you, I went from being someone who once was mesmerized by the slightest brush with a celebrity to someone who took for granted the important, famous people among us. If anything, I learned to respect their humanity—they are real people, just like me.
Many complain about your traffic. And sure, it can be annoying and stressful. I remember the first time I was on the One-Oh-One after 1 a.m. on a weekday, and still found myself stuck in traffic. I complained outwardly, but on the inside, I was excited to be in such a bustling place.
I was amazed the first time we drove up the Three-Ninety-Five to discover the rustic, rural beauty. I had no idea that you had landscapes like that. Then, traveling north on Highway 1 along the coast absolutely blew my mind. The whole drive seemed a tour though every calendar I have ever seen with picturesque shots of the ocean meeting the land.
Yosemite instantly became one of my favorite places, upon seeing it. But I also found myself surprised by how much I love your deserts. And I can't say enough about your crown jewel, Lake Tahoe.
Since moving here, I've gone to multiple concerts every year. The venues you possess are unlike any other place—such uniqueness and history. The Hollywood Bowl; The Greek; the Rose Bowl; The Forum; Dorothy Chandler; The Wiltern; even Hollywood Forever, a cemetery. I've seen Sigur Rós, Josh Ritter, Sufjan Stevens, U2, Norah Jones, Arcade Fire, Yo-Yo Ma, The Tallest Man on Earth.
Most of the miles I've run in my life have come in California. I did a marathon on mountain trails, I ran one that started in the mountains and ended at the beach (which is possible here!). I ran the Los Angeles Marathon, which allowed me to run through many of the important, historical places in the city. I even ran a fifty-mile trail run.
I met amazing friends who have been here to support my family and me in good times and in bad. They celebrated births, birthdays, and my graduation. They watched our kids for us so we could go on dates. They've become family to us. Most of us aren't from here, but you, California, provide a unique experience in which groups of transplants come together out here to form a new family.
I know I'll be back at least to visit. So, in the words of Bob Dylan, "Goodbye is too good a-word, babe, so I'll just say, Fare thee well." Thank you for the way you've expanded my world.