on Jimmy Buffet time


It’s after five o’clock in Texas.

Traveling with my soul mate, and with best friends, particularly when embarking on a real vacation, is akin to traveling as kids. Not in a bad way, but as someone wide -eyed and playful. Husband holding wife’s hands and little smooches. And we hadn’t left the boarding area. Lord Almighty, all of us needed a getaway! After a beverage, the last-minute frantic “did we leave instructions for the house – sitting kids?” seems to both of us unnecessary.  2017-11-06 20.14.09

I can’t speak for our traveling companions, but we are a married couple at that point in our work lives where retirement is finally “on the verge”: a 5-year out calendar item. Sheri and I need the practice of real relaxation. For the years before we became “empty nesters”, our trips would generally be, just far enough and long enough, to not be confused with a Costco – run or “Sunday drive”. When the kids had activities, or we had church lay leader responsibilities, we could not justify missing out unless it was an international or cross-country trip. As much as it was limited spending money as it was for work (the fear of what you would find on the return) was enough to postpone gratification. Then the boys started to take care of themselves and later, started moving out on their own. While my spouse still has the management headaches and the office nameplate and title, she longs for the right person to relieve her. And I started to release responsibilities at work which never really were mine in the first place. My “Type A” nature was beneficial during my Thirties but after chronic health issues cropped up a decade ago, I am far less interested in getting the big office and bigger headaches.

This week work is now the farthest thing from my consciousness. As I considered previously in a blog post, as long as I have a bathing suit, my wallet, our passorts, and a toothbrush, I have nothing else for at least a week weighing on my mind. Or perhaps that is the bourbon talking? Bourbon or should I have rum? And all I need? Now I’m beginning to sound like Cap’n Jack Sparrow. Well, we are going to the Caribbean.


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