A Return to Yesterday, League City, TX

A Return to Yesterday, League City, TX

Once again I have decided to go down memory lane into my distant past. I guess the compulsion to do this must stem from the fact that I would like to record these memories before I can't. Now many of you, hopefully after reading the blog, may wish I would forget and quit annoying you with my ramblings. If this is how you feel too bad I may still write some even if their pure fiction.

When are you considered from someplace. Is it based on time, what you do in the community, some mysterious vote of city officials, or can this be achieved solely by where you are born. I bring this up because when I moved to the area in 1969 I couldn't win. Everyone I met, in Texas, said I sounded like a yankee but when I went back to New York they all said I sounded like a southerner. I had one, very bright, half pint tell me that I had to be from New York City. I tried to explain that New York City was only a small spot compared to the rest of New York state but he preferred trying to make it into something to fight over. I called him a half pint because that was what he was, along with what seemed like 100 of his closest miniature minions. He actually came at me with a tree limb that I swear was bigger then him. I took the limb from him, broke it over my leg, and told him I could do the same with him, that ended that fight (this was my only fight-not much to it).

When I finally moved to Kemah, from Houston, the kids became regular size and I found that I fit in much better. During this time there was a giant chasm between the cowboys and the long haired crowd. I definitely was a part of the long hairs but I was odd in that I could associate with any group, unlike many of my friends. Today you can't even tell who is with what group, some of your country singers have longer hair then the Rock and Rollers. Which reminds me of the time that the principal of the school, his name is now on a school, called my mother to see him about my hair. He didn't like the length and was going to solicit help from my mother to turn me from my miscreant behavior. He sure didn't know my mother, she told him she wished my hair was longer. My mother is French and though she has lived here for almost her entire life she still thinks very differently.

So what am I like today, nothing like what I was like before and exactly like I was before. I still wear my hair longer, though so much shorter then before. I am conservative in some respects, liberal in others and sometimes just something different all together. I appreciate where I live much more then when I was younger. As a Realtor I like the fact that housing prices haven't tumbled like the rest of the country. Prices may not go into the stratosphere and make everyone instantly rich, but they also don't crash down and create a new division of the property poor. Now all you folks living outside this area I'm not trying to entice you to move here, but if you do please text, email or call me, I'll help you find your dream home.

If you were looking for some very insightful tidbits about the area I'm sorry after reading this I failed, in that respect. I did tell you some things about myself that you probably could care less about, but I do feel better so that works for me.