I drive East every other Friday....

Home. It's where the heart is, the old saying goes. For this blogger, I've called Pittsburgh home for 26 years of my life. Time in DC has flown by, already living here for a year and a half. As Gigs will tell you, I'm still clueless as to how to get around the city. I know my escape route to Virginia and other points East. Otherwise, unless it's Adams Morgan, DuPont, Georgetown or Chinatown, I have no idea where it is.

Back in Pittsburgh, I could find a back road or route to get you anywhere. I'm not sure if that exists in DC. Seems at every turn there is more and more traffic. Another thing I've noticed is that in DC, you don't meet many/any people actually from the area. I'm not exactly sure why, but it's a bit odd to me. Whenever I meet someone from Pittsburgh in DC (that I didn't know beforehand) it's like running into an old friend. You reminisce about the place and your favorite spots.

That's the funny thing about the Burgh. For all those years spent trying to escape, you eventually look back on it and smile. Exploring new cities may be great, but once you KNOW everything about a city, it's that much better.

I'll be heading up to the Steel City twice in the next month. The 250 mile drive Northwest on I-70 and I-76 is equal parts relaxing and boring. The scenery as you're driving up the mountains in PA, heading towards Breezewood is intoxicating. You get a view that looks down upon small towns and the countryside. During the Spring/Summer, it's a perfect example of how tranquil parts of the world can be.

Soon, you hit one of the most amazing places on Earth, Breezewood Pennsylvania. I kid you not. After driving how many hours, being stuck in traffic, and just wanting to get to your final destination, this place is a glimmer of hope. It has everything you want and need. From Sheetz to Dunkin Donuts to Starbucks to Wendy's, it's a fast food haven. If you feel like sitting, there's even a Bob Evans, where Flo will serve you up some of the best fried country cookin'.

After passing through Breezewood, it's a race on the PA Turnpike against Tractor trailers and other crazy drivers. When it's raining or snowing, you may even begin to doubt if you'll make it out alive. Of course, it's just a thought, and as it passes, so do the final 110 miles.

Finally, you jump off on the Monroeville exit, fly through the Squirrel Hill tunnels, and the city landscape is there to slap you in the face. At night, it's a stunning view of steel buildings and lights. To this day, I believe Yellowcard wrote the song "City of Lights" after Pittsburgh.

I finally make it home, and within the first floor of my house the last 20 years of memories rush over me, like a flashback in LOST. I see pictures of family and pets (both with us and deceased). I'd then make my way into the dining room, where the piano I used to play for 10 years sat.

But on this next trip back, the piano will no longer be there. It finally was sold, and it's been a mixed review. Home will look a bit different, just as it marginally does every other time I travel back. Just like the city, for so many years I tried to escape playing the piano, and now that it's gone, I want it back. Just one more time to play "November Rain". As I think about the drive next week, I can't seem to shake this song outta my head...

"So I'll drive
And I'll think about my life
And wonder why, I'll slowly die inside
Everytime I turn that car around, right at the PA line and i count the days and the miles back home to you on that Highway 76 ride"

-Zac Brown Band