That's my city
Main Street. Every town has one, but this one is different. I walk down the sidewalk, pass the thrift store, and on towards the mission. Mission San Buenaventura, one of Father Junipero Serra's and deeply entrenched in California's history. On the other side of the street is the restaurant where I had the best salad entree I could have ever imagined. I pass Zoey's Cafe, listening to the live folk singer's voice as it drifts through the second story windows.
Home can be many things. It can be where your family is. It can be where you grew up. For me, it is Ventura. A small beach city just far enough north to escape the insanity of Los Angeles, yet still take part in all of LA's lifestyle. I didn't grow up there - I grew up in a town 23 miles southeast. But for as long as i can remember, Ventura has always felt like home. I belong there. I fit in there. I feel like I live there, even when I don't live there.
Main street? It's me. From the theatre to the coffee shop to the camera store to the restaurant to the mission. The there's the pier - so many cigarettes smoked there, on so many walks where I've asked questions on the way out and answered them on the way back to the shore. The beach is always a place where relaxation is mandatory. That's my city.