Mad Munch Grilled Cheezer Co.

Follow the story below of Mad Munch: It's long strange trip from the prairies of Illinois to the sunny shores of Ocean Beach, San Diego....

02 February 2025

Moving Out & On Down the Line

"You gotta get out here, brotha," Chase told me on the phone.  He had graduated from SIU in May & already moved to Long Beach. "You belong in California."

"Yeah, well, maybe one day," I said.  "I'm about to move to Tennessee here in about a month."

"Tennessee?  Where at?  When?" he asked.

"Well, I'm catching a ride with my cousin down to Carbondale, Halloween weekend," I said.  "I bought a one-way Greyhound ticket, leaves Monday night from there to Nashville."

"Ah yeah, Music City, baby.  Lookout!" Chase said.  "What're gonna do for work?"

"I'm not sure yet.  But, I'll find something.  I got some money saved up in the meantime."

It was a bold move, but I had to go.  People have told me since then, that packing up all your important belongings & moving is a crazy.  Or it's a great idea.  It depends on who you're talking to, I guess.  

"Do it while you're young," they usually follow with.  And sometimes, "I wish would've done that."

Either way, I was done living with my parents after 10 months in the house I grew up in.  They were nothing but hospitable & supportive of me throughout, but it was time for me to get out there.  

We had driven through Nashville a few times on our way to St. Augustine, FL, where my older brother recently moved.  Just looking out the window of the car, in that short period of time, I knew something was going on there.  And, I couldn't wait to find out what it was.

So, that Friday, October 27, 2006, my cousin, Rooney, picked me up in his Ford Ranger pickup, I threw a suitcase & a heavy backpack in the back & we made the journey to southern Illinois.  

We stayed at DP's apartment, dressed up like the Beastie Boys for Halloween (with my little brother who came down from college at Macomb) & fought for our right to party (like it was 1986) all weekend.  It was a great send off.  I said goodbye to them Sunday & then DP took me to the Greyhound station on Monday night.

"Good luck, buddy," he said.  "Let me know once you get settled down there & we'll come down & visit.  It's only a three-hour drive."

But, the bus took what seemed like six hours, stopping at every one-horse town along the way.  

When I finally reached the bright lights of downtown Music City, I took a taxi from the bus terminal to the Motel 6 that I had booked about a month in advance.

I checked in, unloaded my laptop & hung up some of my nicer dress-shirts & the one sport coat I had for future job interviews.  It was well after 2am & I dozed off in my king bed.  

That was my new home for the next few nights.  I would get busy finding work the next day, so I wouldn't have to go back to Illinois.            

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