I hope this is good. But I want to go home.
Comedian Tom Segura opened his 2018 Netflix special Disgraceful by saying, “I wish I was home right now.” His bit went on to suggest that everyone feels that way. “I hope this is good. But also, wrap this shit up. I want to go home.”
The older you get, the more this feeling grows.
As I write this, I’m starting my first full day in Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates. It’s the first time I’ve been to an Arab country. I’m excited to see the Grand Mosque, learn more about the culture, experience a new part of our world that I find quite interesting.
The food in the two meals I’ve had thus far? Exquisite. I’m even interviewing a traditional Arabic musician for my music podcast which I’m particularly stoked about.
But I would be delighted if my ride to the airport for my return trip was waiting for me downstairs.
I hope this is good. But also, wrap this shit up. I want to go home.
This has been my reaction to visiting just about every place I’ve ever been. I can’t decide if its the planner in me, always looking ahead to what’s next and failing to live in the moment. Or if I’ve been lying to myself all these years about enjoying travel.
Certainly I enjoy my experiences abroad. The south of Spain is magnificent. Athens was more amazing than I anticipated. India was fascinating. Australia? I could live there. Even my experiences in “third world” countries have been interesting and fun.
Although, I did not care for the Philippines. LA traffic times 50 and 900% humidity can kiss my ass. (No offense to my Filipino friends. I was just miserable there.)
The notion has begun to creep into my domestic doings as well. Even at dinner with friends I’ll catch myself after the first round of stories thinking, “Okay. I’m caught up. Can I go home now?”
Ironically, my consistent thought when I am home? “I should get out more.”
Then I talk myself out of it by remembering I’m not 20. Drinking makes me tired. My white noise deafness means anything above the decible level of a library and I wind up just watching other people make face noises. And me in a dance club makes as much sense as a stripper in church.
Is this what your 50s is supposed to be like?
I do still enjoy good live music and the occasional sporting event. But even there, I find myself checking the time and thinking the same thing:
I hope this is good. But also, wrap this shit up. I want to go home.
My daughter is far more introverted than I and can even get a bit anxious and exhausted around a lot of people. While I’ve always been more of a social butterfly, I’m starting to understand how she feels in those situations.
She’ll say, “I’m done peopleing.”
“Me too,” I often think.
But if all I did was sit at home with my record player, Netflix and DoorDash, and only interacted with my girlfriend and our respective children, what the hell would I write about?
Probably how nice it would be to travel the world, go to concerts and hang with friends.
So, I’m destined to do all that and just Segura everything.
I hope this is good. But also, wrap this shit up. I want to go home.
