Bye Bye Miss American Pie

"Took our Outback to the Carmax so we could simplify
Them good old boys was thinkin' they would comply
Sayin' this will be a car that we buy, this will be a car that we buy-----"

So enough with the pop song references.  The car is sold, the stuff is packed, and we're off to Ecuador in two days.  In the last week and a half we've flown from Vegas to New Jersey where our daughter lives, from New Jersey to Mexico for our son's wedding, then back to Jersey before leaving the US on Sunday.


The home stretch was nothing short of brutal because we severely underestimated how much was left to do and how long it would take.  Our last day was envisioned as Cynthia shopping for a new bathing suit and me getting a head start on my wedding tan.  Instead we were madly scrambling to pack boxes, finish the inventory list, phone, email, and instant message at a frenetic pace so we could get to the dealer before it closed, which we barely did.


Like our episode with the liquor, the food situation got a bit grim as we depleted the cupboard and refrigerator.  The last morning I asked Cynthia, "What do you want for breakfast--the piece of pizza or half a hot dog?."  At least I had the foresight to dress the half dog with mustard and catsup before I packed the condiments.


Not so with our "Last Supper."  We had held back a frozen flatbread something-or-other, lettuce and dressing for a salad, and an expensive bottle of wine.  Cynthia had "set aside" plastic flatware and plates for this feast, but I was in the packing "zone" all day and in my Zen state of mind those bad boys were directly in the line of fire so into a box they went.


In ordinary times I would have incurred the wrath of Medusa for such a grievous error, but these were not ordinary times, my friends, so we just shook our heads, laughed, and plotted the latest of countless improvisations.  We ended up sharing our flatbread thing on a cutting board and eating whole salad leaves out of mixing bowls with our bare hands.  What a sight--what a moment!  We did get to enjoy the wine out of real glasses that had somehow eluded me, the all-devouring  "Pack-Man."

A lot of people have asked me, "What are you going to do over there?."  The short answer is, "Within reason, whatever I want to do."  I've spent most of the hours of my adult life preparing to do, going to and from, and doing a variety of things that were necessary to provide the financial support my family required.  No complaints--I'd do it all again.


Now I've placed myself in a position to pursue a different path--enjoying things I've always wanted to do that have no guarantee of monetary reward:  writing--painting--sculpting--learning to play the cello.  Looking for ways to be of service and leave the planet a better place than I found it.  Embracing interests that have absolutely nothing to do with chasing a dollar--improving my fitness, exploring randomly, reading for the hell of it.  And yes, perhaps starting a new business if the opportunity presents itself, as long as it doesn't involve a J-O-B.

I've often joked that the problem with folks relocating to "get a fresh start" is that they take themselves with them.  These are the best years I have left, and I'm acutely aware if I go to Ecuador and fritter that time away, shame on me.  In the words of Jack Bauer from the TV series 24, "That's not happening."

Ciao, amigos.  Stay tuned for updates from afar-------