There’s No Place like Home…..

Ironically one of the real splendours of leading a life in the fast lane is, in fact, the appreciation that one quickly develops for home comforts - wholesome, soul-some, there's simply no place like home. For when the minutes and hours of precious personal time are involuntarily invested at no-return across shares of land, air and sea it is very rare to get time-out on a sofa, in front of a TV.

Admittedly the corporate city-commute carries its own comfort, but it is an executive trouser-press type that comes with miniature toiletries and hotel laundered towels, as opposed to home made soup and apple pie. The handcrafted 'Home Sweet Home' sign that should hang as a welcome on the front door is quickly relocated to an electronic screen saver, home-cooked meals come pre-packaged or served by a waiter and the white picket fence that protects a finely manicured lawn becomes a virtual personal ‘surround’ from trespassers on coveted personal space.

As a roaming urbanite, the city-bound Dorothy swaps her iconic blue-checked dress for a black pinstripe suit and wholesome, soul-some Kansas is but a keepsake....

In this version, the calm before the Kansas storm is usually the result of a self-induced coma to catch up on lost sleep. The vortex of the twister typically builds up from Sunday evening and, by Monday morning, it has the world successfully spinning at speed, appeasing only to make the drop back in the fast lane to Friday.

But even on a transient temporary leap onto the yellow brick road (or tube) it is a challenge to be more than a passer-by – in the fast moving reality of the city, friends can be merely acquaintances, loyalty faceless in a busy crowd and promises made are too often just passing prophetics. As I pack up my bags and begin my journey to the Great Oz to return me back to Kansas, I reflect on how unfamiliar my companions on the city brick version of the yellow road are to their movie counterparts - in the city the scarecrow doesn’t necessarily use his brain to think of others, the lion doesn’t always demonstrate courage or morals and, whilst there are many tin men, very few really have a heart...

So, as I check out once more from hotel 'Home Suite Home', I wonder ...who is it, in fact, who really needs to click the heels of the ruby slippers and discover the green, green grass of home...?

‘Til next time, Pandora