Archive for August, 2011
Climbed on a plane to once again head for Dallas. This is getting to be a habit for me.
Hopped on the early flight, to get in before it is too late… sat next to a guy who swore that Mexico was dangerous. Fascinating. I sat and listened to his twisted logic explaining why it was “safe” to go to Cozumel to dive, Belieze.. where he and his wife went diving…. but Mexico? Cancun? Nope.. too dangerous!
Stunned, I pressed further… this was a totally mind blowing walk down a path that had been sown with so many agendas it was bewildering…
We talked about cyber terrorism, and the US response. He was a consultant to a large department of defense contractor…. As it turns out, it was Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama who were “limp wristed” in their pursuit of cyber attacks. I asked if he had ever heard of the joint command at Ft. Belvoir that was tasked with doing just what he was demanding be done… of course, that was “tactical”.. what was really wrong was that the State Department and President didn’t have the “guts” to prosecute a real response. I asked if he thought that the folks in Bentonville, Arkansas who profit to the tune of billions of dollars off of the Chinese might have some say in the lackluster response… again.. no.. just Hillary and Obama.. not getting the job done.
Mr Clubb, if you are reading this.. I am sure that there are a few folks at Ft. Belvoir who might want to show you that they are not just.. “tactical”.
If ever there was a reason to leave the good ol’ US of A, it was this guy. He was educated and worldly, yet when faced with the actual facts, could not admit that his worldview may be skewed. The man equated expats with quasi-spying protestors in Iran. He agreed that Cozumel was “safe”, but Cancun was “dangerous”. Guess being on an island makes you safe? Guess again.. Isla Mujeres is a “dangerous” place…
It is not too soon to get my tickets south.
On the plus side, the clouds were beautiful on the climb out.. over Ft. Huachuca.. where.. you know.. the Army Cyber Command has major operations… that to this guy’s opinion are useless in the face of Hillary and Obama…
No.. must.. stop.. thinking.. about.. the stupidity!.. Must.. think.. beach.. sand.. water… ceviche… Topo Chico…
Ahhhhh… much better now….
Bored in Bisbee
The little corner of the world that is Bisbee can be a great place, if you are invested in being here. Having spent the last 5+ years in constant motion, Diane and I are just restless to get out. The “sameness” has begun to creep into our lives in its insidious ways. Saturday night brings the two of us together, looking at each other over the dinner table.. wondering what to do next. Changing the scenery is a must. The investment in settling down is just too great. We are mortgaging our lives to the road.
This strategy leaves us with a couple of nagging problems, the ones that stare you in the face and won’t let you forget: The Garden. It sits out the kitchen window, unkept and overgrown with the weeds of monsoon. Every time you get a cup of coffee, the garden reminds you that you either have to be here – or not. To the rest of the world, it looks like a 20 x 40 foot square of concrete bounded by a crumbling fence and knee-deep in weeds. To us, it is potential. Wasted potential that could focus our time and energy, producing bushels of tomatoes, green beans and squash… filling our lives on multiple fronts.
Get Out or Get In
Struggling to find something interesting to talk about over dinner, Diane and I realized that we just didn’t have anything. The creeping “sameness” had festered.
In the past, when our lives were a little more sedentary, we would be tending the garden, working in the shop, cooking dinner and just generally “being here”. Now, after these years on the road, we just can’t do it. It isn’t that tending the garden is bad.. it just let’s you know that this is “it”. This is your life. Here. In Bisbee. Nothing More.
That was acceptable then. The phase of our lives where I had a sit-down job at Ft. Huachuca, Diane made soap… all was well. We had it straight. We had goats. We had investment. Local investment.
I got a job as a 100% travel consultant and all of that changed. No longer was our investment local, it was global. We spent years on the road in places as diverse as Oklahoma City and Dijon, France. Nothing stayed still. Nothing was the “same”. Our investment was in each other and our lifestyle. We explored and wandered. It was a whole world open for experiences and we drank in as many as possible. I didn’t take a day of “vacation” in 5 years because our life was a de facto vacation every day.
Rather than the garden, we had random farmer’s markets and local grocery stores. The view out the window always changed. Nothing reminded you of home and the investment you left to fall into disrepair.
My job has changed. No longer am I traveling to distant places and spending weeks working a client. Today, my travel schedule is generally fixed only days before I am expected at a customer site. I only fly in and out for a day… and it is generally the same place.. over and over.
This leaves Diane in Bisbee. Bored in Bisbee. I cut out for a day or so, but it isn’t enough to satisfy my wanderlust. We have to go. We have to get in or get out. We choose to get out.
September should hold a trip to Portland to get our Jeep. The drive back down California, through the sage… reawakening the dreams. October and November, we have a house on Isla Mujeres rented. The Road. The Beach. Our life. Our investment that pays dividends of a wonderful marriage, fantastic memories and experiences far from the norm.