Of course you can go home again, it's just that you will have a lot of questions when you do. Especially if home is Minneapolis and you are staying downtown at a hotel that in your 51 years there you never had heard of, because then it was a bank and only for the past year has been called the Hotel Minneapolis. You realize that in all your years there you have never slept over night downtown and had to leave a hotel in search of breakfast. They eat outside now in Minneapolis and here is a fine Irish pub called the Local on the Nicolette Mall that serves an excellent breakfast. New buildings all around but you're too proud to ask some young transplant waiting on your table what their names are.
Where exactly is the new main public library, how do we turn onto downtown streets that now have train tracks for the light rail, when you need lunch in the mid-afternoon what would be a good place to go, why are we so shocked by the new Guthrie Theater on Washington Ave. (nothing we've read has prepared us for this!)
Home looks better than ever; I'm glad I left and it is good to be back. On Thursday we fly back to the California desert and wait for the cooler weather to arrive and the license plates from Minnesota to begin to turn up in the parking lots. Minneapolis has a ghost on every corner for me while La Quinta has a palm tree with a mountain view. It is good to be back.
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