I live in an 1840's house that I love. I walk seven minutes to main street (and work) every day. I live a mere hour from the mountains, the ocean, boston, minutes from country. I don't have any wants, I just like programming and reading and making things. I live a simple life, I like to think.
Yet I get an email from a recruiter once a week (or a little less often, some more personal invitation) who are thrilled to talk to me until the point that they find that I have no intention of leaving New Hampshire.
Willingness to uproot one's entire life and move (to Silicon Valley), it seems, is a foregone conclusion to them and I never cease to astonish my correspondents by not wanting to go there.
I don't begrudge them. But I don't understand why in the grand game of chess I would exchange 23 years of life for a single job.
(At last one correspondent signed, "let me know if you ever decide to head west, young man :-)")