• We will sail again…someday

I’ve often referred to my sabbaticals as “running away.” As one who’s been blessed with a handful of multi-month BreakAways, that was one way to refer to it that most people would accept, though many would rather sneer, “F*ck you!” It’s been a while, and lately that seems like forever.

Winter arrived early this year. So this is about the time—nay, exactly the time—when long winter escapes seemed particularly alluring. And of course, any vacation from the cold gives any northerner something to look forward to, to relish, and later to cherish.

This year? The world is stuck, like a snowmobile in a snowbank. Heck, a night out at a neighborhood eatery is nearly forbidden, if not dangerous. Who knew that sailing away, whether to St. Thomas or the supermarket, whether for the worldly or the newbie, would get beached?

Nobody. No one can predict pandemics and things. You can, however, rest un-assured that life brings unexpected un-pleasantries. And that’s what makes travel—and making memories—so important. As for me, well, I just had another knee surgery. So I can’t go anywhere anyhow. It brings new meaning to “Winter of Our Discontent,” although the timing seems somehow savvy. And I do adore my recliner.

The point is, I’m so glad I roamed when I could. And that for now I can sit around and get lost in the photos, like the stunning sunset above. So, please, let us remember: Moments make memories. When again possible, take one and make one.

• FOTOFRIDAY: More signs of the times, 2020

It’s hard to BreakAway from election stress, Covid angst, economic uncertainly, and ubiquitous WTF these days. So I gotta give these good neighbors credit for agreeing to disagree while practicing their freedom of expression.

I just hope that, when the signs come down, they can also agree on friendliness, kindness, helping each other with yard & snow chores, and accepting the outcome of the election. Since they live on a lake, maybe they can even enjoy a beer next July 4.

Keep the faith.

• Did you?

I may look pleased with my-selfie, but…

Voting isn’t easy in 2020. Nothing is. Seems like we were always told to vote. Vote Vote Vote! That’s still the message, but…why is this so hard?

Keep the faith.

• What will you be doing at age 92?

When it comes to Wily Marketing, few businesses can compete with Crooners, a large jazz club here in the ‘burbs. (Yes, the ‘burbs!) They’ve found ways to keep open, keep the conviviality flowing, and keep the musicians working—much to the glee of the socially-distanced, sell-out audiences. Their latest innovation: The tent.

Last week, at age 92, the Marvelous Marilyn Maye filled the big-top for 5 nights with world-class music, spontaneous and spot-on humor, and enough Covid-may-care charisma to leave the audiences deliciously, if temporarily, filled with faith. Don’t believe me? Peruse this rave review from the Star Tribune’s seen-it-all critic.

I sit in awe during her shows. And I’ve seen, oh, 55? 95? Because I spent a few summers working a club in Okoboji, where she played—and has for 64 years—2020 being the first miss since the run started. She also plays fine venues all over including in NYC, Palm Springs, and (in the day) Johnny Carson’s show a record 76 times. No wonder I still show up giddy.

A silly pandemic couldn’t stop her from a five-night run at Crooners. She even flew in her favorite but often-unavailable pianist (since he also accompanies starry names like Liza and Bette), Mr. Billy Stritch. Never heard of him? Just trust me when I say he’s the best. And their harmonious chemistry makes your heart pound.

So…YES! Life goes on. Mini-musical-BreakAways can still happen. My obsession with live performance (best served live with good friends and red wine) has not died of C-19. And there are still savvy establishments like Crooners that won’t shut down, and won’t shut up. Instead, they throw up a tent and invite everyone inside.

Marilyn and Band remind us to fight the fear, support your loves and causes, and of course, to…

Keep the faith.

• The ultimate 4-year BreakAway? College!

As a one-time college teacher/preacher (and student, many times), I have forever soapboxed about the sacred value of the college BreakAway. It’s the ultimate experience, after all, combining learning, relationship-building, tradition, experimentation, and so much more (whatever you make of it!).

In the College BreakAway Gospel, here are some important commandments: Stay in the same place for 4 years (but do off-campus opportunities); focus on friends and teachers and people; open your mind and try new things; do MUCH MORE than simply studies (sports, music, volunteering, leadership); make memories of all kinds and places; amp up your values and ethics; learn to write.

If you follow that advice, it’s amazing what a $70K tuition (more or less) can buy you these days. All the above, one hopes. And if you’re really lucky, enough hand sanitizer to last until the next…pandemic? Or at least graduation day.

Life is good for my daughter, a senior in high school—today’s sur-realities notwithstanding. Yet doing the college search and visits campaign has become increasingly complex (and it’s never been easy). Interested in playing a sport and wanting to attend the showcase camps, tourneys, and events—where the matchmaking usually occurs? Good luck with that. They’ve been cancelled since March, leaving athletes and teams in suspenseful hesitation. With no clear end or solution in sight.

But we have managed a few presentations, tours, meetings, and walk-arounds. At one university—which had delayed bringing students to campus—we stumbled upon these tons of hand sanitizer. They’re ready for the onslaught of co-eds, contagions, and fate.

So keep the fate. I mean faith. As College Preacher Kirk also says, the process is always strenuous and stressful. But a perfect-enough match usually transpires in the end somehow.

• So Many Crises, So Little Time

To get to the the point: When we are able to travel again, I suggest you brush off that bucket list, save some jingle, and prioritize trips to your sacred natural spaces. Because they are fading fast.

In my life, snorkeling among the stunning coral, fish, and other critters fills favorite memories. Perfect meditation + exercise. But I can testify that, since I started going to the Virgin Islands in the 80s, the difference is depressingly obvious. Like, at least 75% of the sea treasures are either gone, depleted, or bleached.

Above, these geese are lounging in a city park near where I live. My guess is, not many years ago, that pond wasn’t covered in green scum. Oh sure, we’re all haunted by Covid, elections, violent divisiveness, and such. But when (if?) those issues resolve themselves, I hope the world gets serious about saving, well, the world.

Because many of us still have so much to see, in so little time.

• Oh, the people you meet when travelling… 

Who is this guy? How did he get in there? Does he ever get out? Who gave him such lovely blue eyes? And, by the way, when did he last see his dentist?

I know. But I’m not telling.

But I will say this: Take a BreakAway from your normal schedule and routine, assuming normalcy returns again one fine day, and you too will meet characters like this. I promise.

Back in the good old says, most people revered travel as an adventure, a gift, a dream. Nowadays, depending on where you live, traveling a few blocks to get a haircut can seem exciting. And risky. 

Speaking of risky, I took some nice shots of Koala Lampur’s exotic, late-night market back in November of 2000. But I preferred most meals in tourist-popular restaurants—since going RTW inspired keeping gastronomic experimentations on the safe side, especially with my 3-year-old son at my side.

Still, whatever this gentleman is cooking looks pretty good right about now. As does wandering around an Asian city that never sleeps. 

Keep the faith.