Outside the Bax

D9

By Michael Baxter

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Is there anything better than flying over the jagged rocks and rugged forests on the approach into Saint John? If there is, it's gotta be the view of Sussex from Prescott Hill after a hellish cross-country drive in a vehicle barely fit for the road. With the gas gauge resting comfortably on "E," the $12 in your pocket can feel like a million.

Coming home means not "a" but rather "the" journey is over.

Driving through little drab towns that dot the Prairies, I used to wonder if locals there had as strong a sense of home as I. Did they love the brown expanse of flatland like I do Martin Head?

From my apartment on Daiichi Keihin in Tokyo to my buddy Darren Long's house on Fowler Ave in Sussex, I was in transit for 38 gruelling hours.

It's much different than travelling from out west a 75-hour trip broken up by yellow and white lines, busy truck stops, cramped legs, stiff necks and the "fades."

Passport checks, security clearances, mediocre meals, rude customs agents and jetlag are the norms that mark the international trip.

Yet, like an all-too-real episode of Trailer Park Boys, my first donair made things right again.

I decided to spend this 15-day visit much differently than the others. Instead of playing phone-tag and running like a dog to visit friends and family, I stayed in the immediate downtown vicinity looking for a bit of yesteryear.

Everyday, I just rambled around downtown Tim's for a coffee, Art's for a haircut, Ty's for lunch, TechXperts for Internet access and The Sport Shop for silly banter with Greg Balcolm.

It reminded me of my high school days (without the insecurity) because I had no job or schedule to stick to. Twenty-five years after the highly successful "Operation Shakespeare," Travis Mitton, Darren and I even hung out and analyzed at the fountain for a bit. Classic!

But though downtown offered me some nostalgic peace of mind, the lower end offered anything but. It was like A Tale of Two Cities.

The "box style" stores and strip malls that invaded Ontario in the manufacturing boom, and moved west in the oil boom, have now cemented themselves in the lower end.

I'm told this is progress.

I went down there for several things I couldn't get downtown a box of Schooner, a battery charger and a DQ Blizzard but generally I tried to stay away.

It had an impersonal atmosphere, where items are sold, money changes hands and greedy shareholders in corporate towers tally their profits. The lone bright spot was the super people that work in the lower end.

Sussex is still about as friendly a community you'll ever find.

Yes, for this ex-resident looking to recapture a little bit of his former self, wandering around the red brick buildings of downtown and bumping into friends along the way, was just what the doctor ordered.

But one aspect continues to haunt my visits home.

Stay tuned…

Michael Baxter teaches English in Tokyo, Japan and invites both criticism and support to outsidethebax@gmail.com.