| The End of the Affair |
| Wednesday November 18, 2009, 23:02 PM EST |
About two weeks ago I ended a 5+ year affair with the San Francisco Bay Area.
I will never forget the first time I flew out there, in the spring of 2004 for my first planning meetings to create what was to become Involution Studios. The plane was landing at night and, as I looked out the window at the water below, I thought I was looking at the Pacific Ocean. It was actually the San Francisco Bay. It was the first of many things I was to learn in the years ahead.
More than anything, I learned that I love California. Madly, passionately, deeply. Unlike most young-ish people in my industry who despise Silicon Valley and strive to live in the City (and despite there being three large cities in close proximity, the City always means San Francisco) I adore the valley. It is warm and sunny during the day and delightfully cool at night. There are many more brown people than white people, and something about being a racial and ethnic minority really wore well on me. People are smart there! People are geeks there! Finally, I was surrounded by people who I thought were "like" me. Most of the major technology companies in the world were in this amazingly compact little radius, so driving from one place to another was like a trip through the software A-list. The bay and ocean are close; mountains, hills and forests are as well. There is low humidity. You can find really good ethnic food all over the place. The airports are large with direct flights to every corner of the world. The politics are liberal and people are open. The valley has none of the icky grittiness of the city. If I were independently wealthy yet still had to work I would certainly buy a nice, large home in Woodside, or Los Gatos.
But California is not perfect; if it were, the affair would continue. The deal breaker is that it's prohibitively expensive. Prohibitively. I was brought up in a large suburban home and I grew up accustomed to the conveniences and lifestyle related to a lot of rooms, bedrooms and bathrooms with a nice yard and plenty of living space. Unless you're a millionaire, you won't find that in a sane commuting distance in the San Francisco Bay Area. Right when I first moved to California in the summer of 2005, I was nowhere near able to afford a home. When I left in the fall of 2008, with my company very successful, I was still nowhere near able to afford a home. When I left I knew I probably wouldn't be back. The other blemish is that it is incredibly crowded. The Eastern Seaboard has got nuthin' on the San Francisco Bay Area. It's people on top of people on top of people. But all of the pros more than outweighed that particular con.
The affair was able to continue because, despite my exodus, my company continued forward. The plan was always to administer a multi-location entity, of which California was the headquarters. We even had a small corporate apartment to enable the travel of myself and other mobile employees. California thus became a dalliance as opposed to a spouse.
Ah, the best laid plans. Little more than a year later, the calamity of the 2009 economy led to the demolition of most of our company and my California business partner's heading for higher ground while there was still higher ground to head for. I attempted to zig back to California and revive the location when he left but the damage from a year of ruin was too severe. The end came with a whimper not a bang, as one employee too many left and the relationship between the foundation and potential of the studio combined with the questionable revenue potential signaled a sensible and obvious end. It was little more than two weeks from deciding to kill it and flying out of California for the last time, at least as a nominal resident. Those were a weird, harried, sad two weeks. At the end of it, the affair was over.
California will always hold sway over my heart. I liked to say I felt like a native Californian; it just fit me so well. However, I no longer have the ambition to make the kind of money that living there in the sort of lifestyle I consider comfortable would really require. I might get lucky, something might change, but more likely I won't be living in the warm embrace of California again. Losing her was difficult, and of course is wrapped up in so much more: the dismantling of my company, a brutal professional year, dramatic overall life change. Strangely, 2009 was probably the best year ever in my personal life. It's ironic and, perhaps, cruel how that works. On balance I'm not complaining, just trying to acclimate to a drastically different life.
Adieu, California. I will always miss you.
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