In ZMan’s parlance Baltimore is Lagos on the Chesapeake. And today he wrote his swan song to residency in that troubled urban hell. He moved to the country.
Now he jokingly titled it “Missing Lagos.” But in a real way, he is feeling a loss. Obviously the overwhelming emotion you feel when you escape a hellhole like Baltimore is relief. All of the large and small problems and even existential dangers are essentially gone. And with them goes the tension and stress that takes a continuous toll on your body and mind.
But you can’t live somewhere for decades without it becoming a part of you. Leaving it produces something like that “phantom limb” experience that amputees experience. There’s a feeling that something isn’t right. Of course that eventually subsides but never entirely disappears. I remember when I moved out of New York City. It took me months to get used to the sound of frogs and crickets. It took me a couple of years to stop locking all the car doors.
But reading his account which was mostly disparagement of the dysfunctional residents of his former residence, I could still detect a certain pride in being a member of a club. The pride is that he has proven that he can survive and even thrive in a war zone. It’s an odd kind of a badge but a real one none the less.
Congratulations on your escape ZMan. Enjoy the crickets. They’re very soothing.
I understand being always “on guard”. An adulthood spent in the military in various crapholes will do that to you. I still “eye frisk” anyone in my close vicinity. Combat veterans take decades if not longer to get over it.
I wonder if the Elephant Bar & Restaurant is still there in Baltimore? Talking late 60s to mid 70s.
I’ve read that even the “safe” parts of Baltimore of late have become no-go zones and thus have lost an enormous proportion of their business. I imagine a lot of restaurants have closed.