Return of the native

Ghosts out on the highway
Voices on the wind
Telling me we may never pass this way again
Voices on the highway, angels beckoning
Like a long lost friend

MILWAUKEE -- I said goodbye to Bradenton Friday but was too conflicted to mention it at the time. The Florida Suncoast was my home for more than 10 years and I'm sure I'll miss it more than I realize today.

If you've been following this blog you noticed I was headed somewhere. Up through the Panhandle, cutting north through Alabama ... must be making another journey back to Wisconsin?

Right you are. Those of you who know me were either aware of this move or could have predicted my destination. What nobody could have known -- even me, as it turns out --is what a lonely drive it has been.

It's never easy leaving behind friends and familiar surroundings. The longer you live in a place, if it's a good place, the harder it can be to leave. And that's certainly true about Bradenton. But you know something? It's been in my rear view mirrow for almost four days now, and the objects are no longer larger than they appear. That's a good sign.

Fare-thee-well, I'm bound to roam
This ain't never been my home

I have a hunch Steve Earle misses Nashville more than he lets on in "Goodbye Guitar Town.'' Maybe not. He certainly has transitioned nicely into NYC. A town does tend to have its way with you over time, and that can rub you either right or wrong. But Nashville, even with its warts, is a terrific place.

So is Milwaukee. My old tromping grounds, and now my new home. The only traffic jam of my three-day, 1,500-mile trip came yesterday afternoon, on my way through the city, and it was a beautiful thing. It was the crowd leaving Miller Park after a Brewers game. Damn it's good to be home.

I had this John Prine song in my head the whole trip up:

I'm gonna get on that old turnpike and I'm gonna ride
I'm gonna leave this town 'til you decide
Which one you want the most those Opry stars or me
Milwaukee here I come from Nashville, Tennessee

It wasn't easy to blow through Nashville without stopping, but I was a man on a mission. And now that I'm here in Milwaukee, who knows? The rain has stopped and the winds have subsided. There's got to be a break in the clouds somewhere, a place where a ray of light shines through and points the way to Indian summer.

I think I just saw it, and a good thing. I start my new job tomorrow.