Going Home: Missoula, MT

I'm sitting on Higgins Street in old downtown Missoula Montana. I am now at 3200 feet and that's down hill from the Lolo Pass, benchmarked at 5235 feet. The wireless at the Starbucks flickers on and off; the T-Mobile service is becoming less and less reliable. I am close to the University and I am planning on dropping by the Sigma Nu house here, 1006 Gerald Avenue, Missoula, Montana. I want to see if any traces of Brother Grant Davidson remains there. I understand he served as the chapter adviser when he attended grad school before coming back to East Lansing. Brother Grant has passed on to the chapter eternal, and the list of men who have passed on is growing. So I am going to pay my respects to his work in Montana.

There's another good reason for me to linger in Missoula. A few acquaintances left Michigan State to cut pulpwood in the hills around here. I am drawing back to 1985 - 1986 here. I wasn't thriving at college, wondering if the classes I was taking were going to benefit me. I wanted to make some money, have my own place, be a man of means in the eyes of women, not just a permanently broke college student with enough money to buy street pizza. The idea of cutting 2000 dollars worth of pulp wood had its appeal. But I stayed in school and got a degree, which was helpful in landing my first two jobs. All the other jobs I've landed due to my ability to study and learn new skills. I could still seek refuge in Missoula. It's sunny, blessed with water, and thriving with beautiful, interesting looking women. Yes, even at 43 and divorced and single for the last 8 years since 1999, this is a driving factor for me. Is there a chance at dating is a big criteria for looking at a new place to put down roots. Is it a place women women move to or move away from for greener pastures. I dated three women in a row who moved away from Detroit and its shrinking opportunities. In sum, this is a gaining town, growing in population and real estate prices.

It turns out I cannot linger on my way home. I have to make a few connections in Detroit. It is now later in the day, about two hours of sunlight left. At most, I've made 300 miles; I have 1900 left to cross. That's 6 tanks of gas at 50 dollars a tank. That's 300 dollars and lots of rubber rolled off my wheels. I want to have more than one conversation before I leave this town. I chatted with a consultant from IBM who was waiting for his son's soccer practice to end. It's nice to work at home when ones business is happening all over the world, and that is this man's good fortune. I had to drive out to California to do work that is also accomplished from New Delhi. The road or the decision to stay is awaiting. Maybe Tuesday will be my true mileage day.