If you can't go home, sometimes home can come to you

Tom Wolfe wrote the book "You Can't go Home Again." I used to think Wolfe's title was right. I left the small town where I grew up 24 years ago for college and have been gone pretty much ever since, except for a couple of years in my mid 2os. The reason I used to think Wolfe was right about not being able to go home is that the home we return to isn't how, or what, we remember. The place changes. We change. Life goes on. But the truth is, there's really no need to try to go back to something that never leaves you. You take home with you wherever you go.

Friday night, home came to visit me.

Actually, we met up in McMinnville, where my alma mater was playing in a state football playoff game. The Echo Cougars vs. the Perrydale Pirates. To give you an idea of how small my town and school was, and still is, they compete in a league that plays 8-man football and many -- most -- of the players play virtually every play, on offense and defense. There was no cheerleading squad, just students and parents, cheering and changing in the stands.

Unfortunately, my old school, the Cougs, didn't win, but I feel like I did. I got to see some old friends, who now have children or nephews playing on the team and get caught up on some of the quarter century of life that's passed since we spent time together. Back then, I couldn't wait to get out of town. I felt trapped. Suffocated. People knew way too much about me and my business. But Friday night if felt good to be feel so at home, if only for a little while.