Poor Man’s San Diego
Introduction
We just finished a year where 6 months of it were spent on the road. We played 80+ shows, 4 festivals, and needed 1 new engine for our sweet lil Prius. While a badge of pride was felt from so much time doing what we love, the ache of place-less-ness throbbed none-the-less. Now we’ve officially started our journey towards a Real Face HQ; a respite for the times we are not racing around the country to see y’all. A place to rest.
Thus, we moved to the poor man’s San Diego [ sandy-egg-oh!? ]. For anyone that lives in this place, I do not mean to disrespect the place you love and know, the place you’ve built a life. I call it the poor man’s San Diego for two reasons. One: when canvassing a local on the retention of residents in this east coast tourist town, she mentioned the youngins often move to San Diego after they graduate for a more thorough beach life style. Two: I’ve had an obsessive desire to move to San Diego for the last 3 years, but it hasn’t made quite sense just yet. You know I love skateboarding, warm weather, and art. I’ve always thought I could be a surfer if given the locational opportunity also. It felt like God’s great joke that we’d get to move somewhere on the opposite coast. Maybe that’s what made it just right.
Now I want to take some time to expound on the three things I hear in the word SANDY-EGG-OH?!
Chapter one: Sandy
When I was a child, the poor man’s San Diego was our beach. We’d drive over from PA and spend a week here. We always went to Phillip’s seafood restaurant, adopted hermit crabs on the boardwalk, and went to the beach. The beach was not my friend as a child because it hated me. The beach saw it as its mission to burn my skin and allow sand to appear in all the places I didn’t want it. It would only be on returning home that I’d feel free from the sand, but then find it still hiding in unexpected places. I wanted to be a family team player, so I’d keep my complaints to a minimum but the physical discomfort was not something I enjoyed. If it wasn’t so sandy I wouldn’t have been uncomfortable, but if it wasn’t sandy it wouldn’t have been the beach.
Small situations like that seem to now scream to adult Andrew what life is like. It’s often just generally uncomfortable but not entirely worth not doing. Here we are now, adults living in the land of sand and death, but I’m now going on walks despite it. I even enjoy them greatly now and decide to lie in the sand sometimes just because I can. I’ve changed; I like the beach.
Chapter two: Egg
All my life I’ve heard the rave about eggs being the cheapest source of protein. It is true they are a wonderful health giving food, but also modern eggs are very expensive. Are they still worth eating if they cost more amidst this bird flu? I think so. Basil, Lillian, and I crush about 50 a week and don’t plan on slowing down. We weren’t really affected by high egg prices because we’ve been buying the expensive ones for the past few years. The farm raised ones with deep gold yellow yolks. And they have flavor too! Once flavorful eggs are experienced, it’s very hard to go back.
I feel this way about music too. Now that Spotify and its evil henchmen have commanded our pathetic $11.99 a month for all the music we could ever want at our fingertips, we’re often okay with cheap, flavorless playlists. But have you heard a record on vinyl? I am not casting any stones because I just bought my first player and record. I was skeptical for a long time and was humbled on these past two tours when I got to indulge in so many of my friends collections across the states. I get it now and Lord, that crackle, that warmth, the love that goes into a thoughtful vinyl master. Suffice to say, I’ve been converted both to expensive eggs and expensive music. Here’s to finding out I was wrong.
Chapter three: Oh?!
On the tour we just finished, we played a house show in DC, and friends Jack & Bailey showed up. They mentioned how much they’ve enjoyed these funky emails over the years. Oh?! And then it kept happening again and again. Friends made trips to come to shows and would let me know that these emails were life giving. Oh?! Truthfully, I’d stopped sending them regularly because my analytics were showing them less and less opened. I thought that they might be annoying so I slowed down. Well, if you are reading this email now, this is for you and I will be sending them once a month until the end of the year because I love you and this is for you! Emails are much quieter than Instagram and maybe that’s why we get to connect like this. If no one told you this today, I’m going to tell you right now: I love you and am glad that you are here, however you are. You’re great just the way you are and if you need to change or not, you are still worthy of love right now. Oh?!
yea.
Conclusion
I was walking on the beach when I came up with the premise for this email. It’s a bit silly, but I feel glad to follow the thread of creativity still. My prayer for you is that you find some things to enjoy amidst the sand, buy the expensive eggs, and find out that you are loved as you are.
Love,
Andrew from The Poor Man’s San Diego
