"My house is not a home" -Drake

  Although I was born in Idar-Oberstein Germany I grew up in Columbia SC on a little street called Hazelwood Road.  I lived on 1832 Hazelwood Road from the age of 3 till 15 and no matter what this will always be the address I think about when I talk of home. It was a very old house built in the early 1960s with outdated everything.Our windows were so old we couldn't open them up and our roof should have been replaced 10 years before I was even born.  It was a simple 3 bedroom 2 bath house that oftentimes felt cramped for my family of 5.  However, around the age of 10 we hired a construction company to turn the garage into a 4th bedroom so that my sister and I would no longer have to share a room.  My description of my childhood home probably doesn't sound all that great but all know is that I loved that house and would give the world to return to it.  When I think of this simple brick house I am filled with fond memories of running around in the sprinklers during the summer and in the fall making my dad mad when we jumped in piles of his freshly raked leaves.Because our house was on a corner lot we had a HUGE background and though I played in it ever day I still feel there are parts of it I left unexplored.

     I didn't just love my house I also loved my neighborhood.  Beside us lived a man whose house was barely visible due to the fact that he left old cars sitting on his lawn and never seemed to cut the grass. My sister and I  would often slyly shovel our dog's poop into his yard and to our amazement he never seemed to notice.  Mrs. Caughman, an old lady and friend of the family lived across the street and form time to time she'd invite us over from time to time for, as cliche as it might sound, milk and cookies. For about 3 years a woman named Michele Davis lived in our neighborhood, she became a close friend of the family and would let us cut through her yard to get to school.

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     My sister, brother and I would ride our bikes so fast down a huge hill in our neighborhood that we would almost always crash and burn.  On the weekends we'd play on the playground at our elementary school and take pleasure in being able to be far more reckless on the equipment than we could under teacher supervision.

     I got so caught up in my neighborhood I almost forgot to mention my room in my childhood home.  Once I got my own room I turned it into my own little slice of heaven.I decorated it with all the things I loved, at the time mainly Pirates of the Caribbean and Orlando Bloom.

    

     Since 15 we've moved countless times but never once did any of these houses fill like home.  I'd always compare them them to my house on Hazelwood Road and be upset when I noticed differences. Its ironic because out of everywhere I lived this house was to the ugliest and oldest but still my favorite.  This is a case in point example that money cannot buy happiness.I'd have to assume that since his fame Drake had bought several homes but probably not feel like home to him like the house he grew up in in Toronto.