Goodbye columns are tough.
For one thing, I don't think there have been that many to begin with. Most of the time columnists just disappear, riding off into the sunset or disappearing in a cloud of dust. Rarely does a columnist have an opportunity to actually say goodbye.
So, I'm both excited and a little sad to say that the next edition of The Mirror will be my last. My wife and I have decided to move on in what we hope will be a move that is good for both of us.
Of course, there is a small part ...wait, ok, there's a large part of me that wishes this whole moving thing could just be over instantaneously. There can't be anything more frustrating and time-consuming than packing, moving and unpacking all of your earthly possessions. Period.
First, there's the procuring of boxes. A few trips to some local liquor stores solved that problem, but uh, if you've ever tried to move using just liquor boxes, well, I wouldn't recommend it. While they do the job, they're not exactly sturdy. So, after liquor boxes are procured, you suck it up and go get real boxes from a packing store. Then, of course, there's the packing itself. Aside from the broken dishes, mismarked boxes and the perpetual dread from realizing you have way more stuff than you'd ever dreamed, it's a delightful process. Really.
Ok, so the leaves change, the kids grow up, and you're finally done packing. Now you get to drive your stuff to your new residence, slowly killing yourself in the process going back and forth.
And let's not even talk about getting the old residence in a shape where you get your security deposit back. I think I went over every square inch of our old apartment, scrutinizing every dent, ding and scratch.
When you take into account the fact that my car has been in the shop for a month undergoing various repairs, you can only imagine how frazzled I've been lately.
But, I typically subscribe to the school of thought that all things do tend to work out in the end. And moving is no exception, even if it does feel like you may as well be in the pits of Hades when you're breaking your back as you lift boxes into cheap conversion vans, hoping nothing breaks in the process.
Really, it's been fun. Aurelia and I have been here for about 20 months, and we've really enjoyed ourselves. I hope that in the future everyone continues reading The Mirror. McDuffie County is in good hands with Jason, Kristopher, Angela, Janet and Brenda. With that, the proverbial book has closed on Deep Fried for all eternity. Adios.