Saddle up

I've always been an East Coast kid. The drippy chewiness of a cheesesteak, the familiar bite of the night's first Yuengling, and the eardrum blitzkrieg of a Jersey accent own tiny pieces of my heart. Plus, I hate the sports teams I root for, and I look sickly in the winter. And I'd sooner feed my giblets to a tiger shark than drink a teaspoon of the mid-Atlantic he swims in.

But now I'm in Horseopolis. The Belly of the Bourbon Beast. More Manure, You're Sure? Or, if you're a nerdy literalist: Louisville, KY 40202.

I've moved to Seabiscuit Central for two reasons.

First, Girlfriend. She's a medical student now, and I don't get to hear nearly enough -- NEARLY ENOUGH -- cadaver stories at home in Philly.

Second, I wanted a career change. Working nights and weekends as a newspaper editor became odious and unfulfilling, regardless of the quality of pay or the reward of helping direct a news agenda. I'd rather write, report, teach, coach track or cross-country, or wipe boogers off walls in a daycare center, so that is what I intend to do. Right now I have no health insurance (COBRA plan from former employer was exorbitant), so if you think the blog sucks and you want to hit me in the head with something heavy, I'd be thrilled if you waited until after I get a new job.

So here I am. Girlfriend and I have an apartment downtown, I have an uncurable itch to run a lap at Churchill Downs -- maybe do some butt slides on the rail? -- and I have a brand new start in a brand new place. It's alarming and exciting, and I'm going to write about it for my benefit and yours, in case you wonder what I'm up to and/or you're moving somewhere soon.

What else can I say? Stay tuned, and I'll tell you about some trivial experiences that will knock your freakin' socks off. Y'all.