Where everybody knows your name.

It's starting to sink in a bit that we are actually leaving Eugene. Put more accurately: last week I had an experience that bummed me out about the move. I ran to the Red Barn for some Shanghai pork supplies (and yes, you can substitute anise seed for star anise), and because Facebook told me that the Dylan tribute band was playing, I stopped in Sam Bonds for a quick beer and listen. I got a head nod from the doorman (and no ID check); a New Year smooch from the bartender; and a hug from the guitar player's girlfriend; and a heyyyyyyy... from a couple neighbors (or maybe it was a smooch from the guitar player and a hug from the owner?). And the band was great! And I thought all the instruments in Brian's man-den were just for show.

It wasn't until I got back home that I realized that I had had an awesome neighborhood experience. And this sense of belonging has been steadily growing as we have set down roots here in Eugene. But now we're throwing them into a pot again and hauling them south. Does Santa Barbara have a Chicken Town?