Missing things

Two of the multitudes of people I miss 

The list of people and things I miss about Utah is exhaustive. I thought about writing a post about all the stuff New York lacked, but that just seemed like an exercise in sadness.

And New York is great, don't get me wrong. Sometimes I am just filled this overwhelming sense of awe at the fact that I am living in the city. But then something reminds me of home. For example, last weekend a thought occurred to me and I texted my brother and sister a ridiculous message.

My brother, sister and I have labored at our family pizzeria since we were old enough to hold a job. One of our current coworkers at Fat Jack's bought himself a house. He rents out the extra rooms and has lovingly christened his abode "Thug Mansion." In the place where one might spell out their surname on a mailbox, a passerby can see "Thug Mansion" neatly painted. My brother has devious plans to repaint their mailbox and paint something offensive in place of "Thug Mansion." Somehow while walking down the streets of the East Village my thoughts wandered to Thug Mansion, and I thought the greatest possible defacement would be simply painting over the T, so it would read "Hug Mansion." I had to let them know and sent a text explaining the idea.