Friend of a friend. That’s how I met Wendy Swart Grossman, today’s guest blogger.

Face to face. That’s how we will soon meet, instead of screen to screen.

St. Olaf College. That’s where we both were a few decades ago, though we have no memories of that—of each other, I mean.  (Not to worry, we’ll make some up.)

Jealous as heck. That’s how I feel about WSG’s gonzo-America trip with her family in an RV.

Bucket. That’s the list where that dream, for me, remains.  So WSG sits on a pedestal.

But she doesn’t sit still long.  Presently, she’s traversing the states—again—to promote her self-published memoir about their amazing experiences, Behind the Wheel: A mother’s journal of a year on the road.

Please join WSG, me, and (one hopes) a bunch of book-lovers and BreakAway artists when she comes to town in early November to do two readings + some Q&A at neighborhood bookstores.  For a sneak preview, here’s Wendy’s bold answers to our 11Q test.  Clearly, this is one fearless woman.  Thanks, Wendy; see you (offline) soon!

11Q : Wendy Swart Grossman

• Biggest getaway challenge

Trying to keep the fear factor at bay and the voices in my head quiet. What were we doing heading out in an RV, yanking our 7 and 12 year old away from all their friends, doctors, our own support networks and home schooling? As a parent you always wonder what screw up is going to get your kid on the therapist couch…maybe this trip was it. We were also heading out on our big adventure in the midst of the worse recession since the great depression. Our biggest challenge was having the trust that we would be alright and that we would find jobs once the adventure was over.”

• Grandest arrival

After months of traveling through 23 states and 15 national parks where the ratio of elk to people was about  300:1 it was time to show the kids the seedy underbelly of America.  We tooled into Las Vegas with our 12 year old shouting in our ear, “LAS VEGAS! My spiritual homeland.” We got a great deal on a room at the Excalibur Hotel. You know, the knight-themed hotel next to the more luxurious Luxor and Mandalay Bay. Twenty-three bucks a night. It is half the cost of an RV park and we will more than double our hangout space, plus a full-size bathroom. We were there for three nights in between Joshua Tree National Park and the Grand Canyon.

We introduced our kids to gambling culture, smoke-filled casino floors, Breakfast of Champions Las Vegas-style (when the man walked past us at 7:30 a.m. with a beer in each hand), one-armed bandits, video arcades, cheap buffets, The Mob, and sexism in a variety of ways from female escort services to scantily dressed women. If you haven’t been to Vegas lately, the strip (for those who decide to walk) is chock-a-block with groups of what appear to be newly arrived immigrants from south of the border, dressed in neon-yellow shirts and matching hats all emblazoned with the same motto: Girls to your door in 20 minutes. They also hand out the matching business cards with the number to call. How convenient.

In the 13 years since Evan and I had last been to Vegas, the free Pirate Show in front of the Treasure Island Hotel has gone from showcasing Disney-approved, fresh-faced pirates to pole-dancing, g-string-wearing pirates. Thirteen years ago there was a battle between the British man of war and the pirate ship. Now it’s the ship of Sirens (the aforementioned scantily clad women) vs. the Pirates. To add misogynistic insult to injury, when the pirates decide to fire their cannons at the Sirens (how else could the show’s directors showcase all the pyrotechnic power designed for the original show?), the Pirates decide to bring the Sirens to submission by “attacking their closets, where it will hurt the most.”

I apologized to Josh for taking him to this X-rated show. In a good-natured way he replied, “This will be a good story to tell my friends: Then there was the time my parents took me to see naked ladies in Vegas . . .”

• Favorite place

The real answer: all of them, and for different reasons.

The passenger seat.  Staring out at the vast expanse of road and open spaces in Montana. Watching my husband Evan’s profile as he drove, with the kids in the back happily reading.

Crater Lake, Oregon in November in a snowshoe hike when we stopped to listen to the sound of nothing.

My aunt’s patio in Jacksonville, IL on an early autumn evening.

The bed in the back of the RV with seven year old Simon. Hanging up party lights and making special cuddle caves out of blankets with his stuffed animals.”

• Logistical nightmare

The wonderful thing about traveling in an RV without an agenda is you are on your own time schedule. The nervousness about making a connection or if your luggage is over weight just wasn’t an issue.

• Most meaningful moment

We were traveling between Ketchum, Idaho and Crater Lake, Oregon and had stopped over night in the long forgotten town of Vale, OR. While most people know about western Oregon and it’s beautiful coast line, Eastern Oregon and it’s poverty isn’t on the map or in the tourist books.  We pulled up in the dark, made dinner and went to bed and when we looked out in the morning on a gray November day, to say it was depressing would be an understatement.  Many times in an RV we shared campgrounds with people who were there permanently.  The RV’s were up on blocks and the folks were there for awhile.  While we were just passing through, many of the folks we were sharing bath houses and Laundromats with weren’t.  That is when my older son lost it, “You have ruined my life.  We are 4000 miles away from all my friends and we live in an RV.”  The wonderful part  was that we had no where else we needed to be so Josh and I took a long walk around Vale, Oregon and talked about poverty, choices, refrigerators in front lawns and how lucky we were to have options.”

• Worst disaster

I would hardly call this a disaster but it does fall in the scary column. Imagine if you will:  Our 29’ white Winnebago with the sporty strip camped out in the Wal-Mart parking where they court the RV’ers and let us park overnight for free.  We are in Grand Forks, North Dakota. We were making our way down to Minneapolis after a wild adventure to Churchill Manitoba to see the polar bears in the wild.

The Red Lobster sign shines a nice ruby red glow in the front window of the RV. And the trees that are planted in the parking lot in an attempt to make it not look like the vast parking lot that it really is, are skinny and losing their leaves but appreciated. Parking Lot, Sweet Parking Lot (if I knew how to embroider, that’s what I’d be putting on one of our pillows). After a nice swim at Splashers Water Park, a dinner of left-over’s and an exciting game of Clue we are all snuggled into our beds.

Then at 3 AM a loud beating of hands against the side of the RV wakes us all up.   Funny how we are thousands of years from cavemen but our responses are programmed just the same. My husband, the protector, wakes up yelling, “Get out of here!”  I, on the other hand, wake up silently thinking to myself, “If we hide, they will go away.”

We hear the drunken voices and laughter of teenagers as they continue their weaving path across the parking lot. We are fine.”

• Serendipitous experience

We need to talk about pajamas. I don’t mean night shirts, nightgowns, or boxers and tee shirts; I mean 2 piece pajamas – usually flannel – with either a draw string waist or an elastic one. A button up top is a given. But not the kind with built in feet – those are too hard to wear when you are driving an RV, especially the kind with the little plastic bumps on the soles.

My mother has accused me of wearing my pajamas a little too often. I have been known to get in to my pajamas far before bed time and to stay in them well past noon. I have cooked meals in them, gardened in them, walked to the end of the driveway to pick up a poorly tossed newspaper, and on our first Christmas in London I went to my next door neighbor Jane’s house in my pajamas and had coffee in a move that cemented our relationship.

And yes, I have thrown a coat and boots on and worn them to the grocery store – but only before 9 am. Not that there are any set rules and regulations regarding improprieties and pajama wear like there are with white shoes after Labor Day, but I do have some self respect.

And then of course there are the Pajama Adventures I have had with my jet lagged kids in various parts of the US where we sneak out of the house or hotel and look for trouble (and donuts) between 5 and 6 am in pajamas.

Everything is a little more fun if you do it in pajamas.

I wore my summer stripped pj’s to visit Lincoln’s house in Springfield, Illinois at 6 AM one early summer morning. I wore my yellow sunflower set to Hapgood Pond in Peru, Vermont in August. And the tropical flowers pair I wore in a memorable swim in the Pacific Ocean in San Diego with the boys when they were no more than 5 years old.  The swim was unintentional but when they both went in…how could I stop myself?.

My mom has commented that I am the only person she knows who has worn out pajamas. But considering how much I wear them, that is to be expected.

And then, there we were staying with our friends in Zumbro Falls, Minnesota, population 177.  Five of those people are my friends Doug and Pam and their 3 kids. I hadn’t seen Pam for 20 years and she still looks 23. We parked the Big Pig (our pet name for the RV)  in a snowstorm Friday night next to their new house – their new house because the old house was damaged by a tornado.

Saturday morning I walked across the muddy driveway in my pajamas and boots around 9 AM to hang out, drink coffee and have breakfast. I walked in and Doug said, “Did Pam loan you her pajamas?” I was wearing my Gnome flannel pajamas. Pam was wearing hers.

There are some friends you don’t see for 20 years and those years just dissolve away over a cup of coffee in your matching Gnome PJ’s.

• Strangest encounter

Did you know that at the RV park just outside of Devil’s Tower National Monument in Wyoming they show Steve Speilberg’s 1977 classis Close Encounter’s of the Third Kind every day?  So appropriate!  This park was the first declared National Historic Monument by Teddy Roosevelt in 1906.”

• Requisite health dilemma

What do you do when you are living in an RV and your kid get’s sick…every month? We loved to catalogue the statistics of our trip, from miles driven to number of wild animals seen, to Junior Ranger Programs completed.  The one statistics I didn’t was the number of Urgent Care Center’s we visited. My 7 year old son Simon was sick every month with fevers and sore throats. He had his throat swabbed from Rochester, MN to Boulder, Colorado. Little known fact: Grand Tetons National Park has an Urgent Care facility on site!”

• Profound take-away

Perhaps this is more of a profound realization of the absurdly obvious but–the less you are doing, the more time you have. And the more time you have the more open you are to new ideas and creative conversations. As a parent you never know when you kids are going to be open to having those big conversations. But with a year of open timelines and time on our hands we were available, focused and interested.  One day our kids asked us, “just what is the stock market and who is Dow Jones?”  Three days later we completed the conversation.”

• Re-entry vibe

If we had moved directly from our lovely house in London into a small apartment in Boston while we looked for jobs and re established our life in the US we would have been sad.  It wasn’t our choice to leave London, but as expats on a work visa, we were there on the company’s invitation and not on our own accord.  But once we took the control back and decided to have the adventure in the RV, it was or choice again. And once we decided to end the RV trip, moving into an apartment with doors and 2 bathrooms felt like we were moving into a palace.

While we have been on terra firma for a year now, living in an old Victorian house that doesn’t move we know we are different from our neighbors. When people ask where we moved here from we know if we say, “an RV”, we are opening ourselves up to big eyes and a long conversation.

I think it is human nature to try to put people in boxes so we can better understand them. But we know we don’t fit neatly into any one box. We flop over the sides of them all. But that’s alright and, in my opinion, preferable.”

Bonus Bio & Book Blurb!!

My name is Wendy Swart Grossman and yes, I survived living in a 29’ Winnebago with my husband and two kids.  We traveled 28,000 miles through 37 States and Provinces while we home schooled our 2^nd and 6^th grade kids.  Yes, they still talk to us.  We have been on terra firma for a year I have finally gotten rid of the RV smell from my clothes and the book is just coming out.  It debuted at #4 in the Family Travel section of Amazon and was 8^th on the Boston Globe’s Best Seller List.  It is called Behind the Wheel: A mother’s journal of a year on the road.

Behind the Wheel: A mother’s journal of a year on the road is a humorous collection of true stories and journal entries chronicling the adventure of a family of four as they trade their life as expats in North London for the Semi-Affluent Homeless subculture and trek across North America on a tight budget in a Winnebago. Laugh, seek inspiration and then take heed as these intrepid travelers—a menopausal mom, a techno-geek dad, a preteen, and a prophetic 7-year-old—confront unforeseen challenges and constantly adapt their goals in an effort to stay on the road and avoid becoming road kill.

Think Eat Pray Love meets Robin Williams in the movie RV.

Feel free to check out my NPR podcast at http://bit.ly/WSwbur

And please come!

Minnesota book readings:

Thursday, November 3^rd, 7:30 PM Common Good Books, St Paul www.commongoodbooks.com

Friday, November 4^th, 7 PM, The Bookcase, Wayzata

www.bookcaseofwayzata.com

For the second year in a row, travel-lovers convened in 17 cities to confab about career breaks at MeetPlanGo.  In MSP, I was annointed chief host and bartop-washer, and was again humbled by our attentive guests and talented panel.  Such events become a blur—even before the after-party.  Yet many observations remain vivid…

• The mature and restless

Who’s going to show up?  You never know til they walk in.  I was surprised by two skews:  Young and hungry; and older and restless.  The youth have toured and yearn for more—while relishing the decades that await them like mysterious paths.

The older crowd surprised me.  Theory:  The economy has severed strings in some golden parachutes and retirement remains uncertain.  Yet they trust their final years aren’t all work, save, fret—but also include ample travel and leisure.

One dominant demo in the career-break crowd runs female, 25-40, single, and educated.  They were there too.  But they were surrounded by diversity–confirming that you’re never too old to rock and roll, and never too young to aim high.

• So many stories, so little time

I so wish there would have been time to chat with every guest.  But the hours disappeared like, well, sands in an hourglass.  After the group had dispersed, I found myself virtually alone at the bar, snarfing a midnight supper and reflecting over (and into) a glass of Zinfandel that, as Sly sings, “Everybody is a Star.”  To wit…consider:

• One young fashion student graduates soon.  Her dream is to get to New Zealand, see the land known as “Godzone,” and become a period-costumer for movie-makers.
• One couple has realized retirement isn’t yet around the corner.  So they’ve started up an online business that allows them to work on the move; they just happened to be in town.
• A young photographer surprised me by being able to share affection for the islands of St. Vincent and Bequia.  Stateside, I’ve met no other person who’s spent time on both of those West-Indian gems.

• A panel with poise and punch

Big ups and thanks go out to my panel, an impressive crew who willingly gave of their time, knowledge, and passion.

• Leif Pettersen remains a walking, talking travel encyclopedia—with 47 countries under his belt, to say nothing of his Lonely Planet books and successful blogs.
• Julie DuRose charms with yarns and pics of love lost in faraway lands, friends found everywhere, and the singular bliss attained when globe-hopping.
• Kara McGuire embraces her role as money mentor, and shares insights about everything from credit card bests to retirement angst.  Her big BreakAway lies ahead, but she DOES use all her vacation time—and…who knows?
• Finally, Layne Kennedy dazzles with chronicles and photos from the world over.  As if to remind us that good photography is more eye than gear, he proudly announced his new book, Snap, shot entirely with an iPhone and apps.

Snap?  Appropos!  The career-break tribe has been buzzing about Meet, Plan, Go for a year.  And then, Snap!  It’s over.  Like a BreakAway itself; these things can take years of patience and months of planning.  And then, Snap!

But the way of life carries on.  The memories live on.  And the stories have endless characters, but no ending.

Thanks again.  Keep the faith.  And happy sails.

When Julie DuRose speaks at our panel of five at Meet, Plan, Go MSP next Tuesday (10-18-11), you can expect stories of escaping academia, exotic foods, and solo travel. As a women.  In outlandish lands.  With nary an itinerary.  Not only did she survive, she thrived—and can’t wait to fly away again.  (See bio below.)

These traits alone make her a perfect panelist.  But her clever demeanor and gift of story will light up the room, and enlighten fellow dreamers and schemers.  The world is ready for her book, Wake Me for Meal Service.  But alas, we’ll have to wait until it’s finished, published, and perfect.  With her talents, the wait won’t be long.  And after that?

My best guess is we’ll be needing a go-away party—to wish her Godspeed before she embarks on a book tour, or perhaps more urgently, another big BreakAway.

So see her while you can.  Meantime, thanks to Julie for taking on the 11Q challenge.  Take a read.  Soak in her courage.  And please join us at Honey on Tuesday night.

• Biggest getaway challenge

My then partner (and travel-mate) and I are both planner types and have a head for details and problem solving, so the multi-country itinerary was not a big deal at all. What was difficult, though, was agreeing about what all to save (or not save), and what to get done (or leave unfinished) – which lead to the challenge of picking a date. This was likely more about the fundamental ways we were incompatible, though, than it was about the nature of the tasks at hand. (May you all have an easier time of it!)”

• Grandest arrival

My father & stepmom bought us two nights at Le Meridien in Kuala Lumpur over New Year’s. We went from backpacking through leech-infested jungles to sipping European wines in fluffy white bathrobes. I hadn’t seen a bathtub in months, and this one was magical.”

• Favorite place

When I was riding my motorcycle through Alaska, it was Alaska. When I was in New Zealand, I thought it was New Zealand. When I was in Bali, it was Bali, and when I was in Rajasthan . . . well, you get the idea. The only place I didn’t think was worth the trip was Invercargill, whose claim to fame is that it is the southernmost city in the world. That was pretty much the most exciting thing about it, too.”

• Logistical nightmare

Buying five train tickets as a woman traveling alone in India was a three-day project. You can pay a travel agent to help you with things like this, of course, but I don’t find that nearly as satisfying or memorable. (Oh, and whenever possible, take the train.)”

• Most meaningful moment

“Most” is again an impossible designation, but I often think about a time when a young Cambodian man got on his scooter and rode through the streets looking for me to apologize that his father had displayed anger in the restaurant where I had just eaten. We had never met before.

I also think a lot about the grand hospitality I received over the course of a year, and in particular, this amazing couple in Anchorage that shared their home and their lives with us for three weeks, and included us on a trip into the Arctic.”

• Worst disaster

I can’t think of any “disasters” really, but my (initial) traveling companion and I fought a lot – and often publicly, since our “homes” were basically on our backs. (There is definitely a loss of privacy on the kind of trip I took.) At the tail end of a particularly long – and silent – flight, it became apparent that the man next to us had no idea that we were even together. That felt like something of a disaster at the time, if only on a relationship level.”

• Serendipitous experience

Serendipity is the rule when you give yourself over to travel. One of my favorite moments of serendipity was meeting two amazing guys from Dayton, Ohio, near the Taj Mahal. I was putting out a table fire at the time, but that is a long(er) story.

You know, it got to the point that whenever something went wrong – when I got horribly lost or sick, or my vehicle had broken down, for example – I was overcome with this wonderful kind of calm anticipation about what remarkable thing or person was waiting for me just around the bend.”

• Strangest encounter

Firing an AK-47 in Phnom Penh, I suppose, or a forbidden taxi ride through Bangkok when the city was on fire and under lockdown in April of 2010.”

• Requisite health dilemma

You name it: Jellyfish attack in Indonesia, dysentery in India, Chikungunya in Thailand, bedbugs in Cambodia . . . Each time I needed medical care, though, I was profoundly amazed at how much easier, more accessible, and more pleasant it was then any healthcare experience I’d had back “home.”

• Profound take-away

For “profound,” you’ll have to buy the book.”

Re-entry vibe.

Honestly? America feels like a forced labor camp – except the “labor” is willingly participating.”

Julie DuRose When Julie quit her teaching gig at The Ohio State University to travel the world for a year, she let her appetite guide her. She shucked oysters at the Russian River; picked cranberries in the Arctic; tried stingray in Malaysia; ate jellyfish in Singapore (that was revenge); popped oven-roasted tarantulas in Cambodia, and ate fruit she’d never heard of – jackfruit, salak, rambutan, and the sexiest of all, the delicate mangosteen. All of it surprised her, as did the hospitality of her fellow humans. From Carmel to Anchorage to Kona, HI, throughout New Zealand, India, and S.E. Asia, she never imagined how many folks would be part of her extended travels – not to mention her life thereafter.

Julie DuRose is former chef and current M.F.A. candidate in nonfiction, currently writing a memoir entitled Wake Me For Meal Service. She lives in St. Paul, though she dreams of Myanmar.

Kara McGuire has one of the coolest jobs around:  She gets to write about money. No, not Donald Trump and the VIX index, but helpful info for the average checkbook bungler.  On Tuesday, October 18, Kara will participate in our Meet Plan Go career-break panel. If a money’s a main obstacle that keeps you from flying away, you’ll want to be there.

• Spot-on reportage

Kara clips coupons.  Kara has three kids under the age of eight.  Kara knows how many Americans are one month away from losing their house.  But within the last month, she’s also offered readers real, relevant articles like…

1. Think twice before saving for college
2. Women minding the money
3. Slash your grocery bills

She’s also a proponent of schools that get off their abacus and teach our young’uns how to be better with a buck.  Just think:  Had we promoted that sooner, maybe this dang debt crisis wouldn’t still be such a massive bummer.

• Yet Kara’s BreakAway awaits

Last we talked, Kara came clean with a secret:  She’s yet to take her career break.  (Egads!)  Yet she loves to travel,

It’s not so easy with two careers and three kids, but we try to set aside travel money every year—athough it can be the first savings to get tapped when the unexpected expense shows up.”

So, Kara, unlike most Americans, do you at least use all your vacation days?  She laughs,

Oh yes.  And when we travel, we might spend a day at a four-star resort, and then camp—to extend the budget and time away.  But with a family now, sometimes vacations become visiting grandparents and such.  The good news is that, sometimes, that takes you to faraway places like Massachusetts.”

• Save your hard questions for Kara

So please, join Kara, me, and our three other panelists.  And ask Kara the taxing questions.  She’ll have a savvy answer—and you’ll be one step closer to your big break.

On October 18, career-break dreamers and veterans alike will gather simultaneously in 17 cities nationwide for the 2nd annual Meet,Plan,Go!

In each location, a savvy panel will provide the punch, while a local host will run the circus.  In Mpls, that’s Me.

• Who are these crazy people?

One of them is true travel guru, Jeff Jung.  I mean, this guy not only globe-hops like the Energizer Bunny, he also blogs like the best and creates amazing videos to help folks get going (among other things).  Surf his world to see just how righteous a sabbatical site can be.

Despite his travels and tech tasks, Jeff found time to collect the short stories and faces from the other 16 hosts.  It’s a captivating crew—with surprisingly NOT that much in common—ranging from youngish to oldish, from solo to family, from selfless volunteers to shameless vagabonds. Please meet just a few…

• Sonia, in DC exemplifies the “back to work breaker.”  That’s right:  She’s proven it’s possible to have a career, run away, and come back to work again.  Encore!
• “Soloist” Lisa Lubin, in Chicago, shoots a helluva photo and clearly eats well when she embarks on solo sojourns.  She takes no short-cuts and savors every bite.
• And then there’s my fellow “multiple breaker” and dear friend, Sherry Ott—who’s also one of the mad visionaries behind MPG.  For a cathartic treat, get lost on her site.

I could go on and on.  But the far more fascinating option would be to wander around some of these suave sites.

Good luck and Godspeed to my fellow hosts—and thanks, Jeff!

• On the freeway, dude in the pick-up behind me talks on his cellphone, snarfs a sandwich, and tailgates like we’re attached until I leave the lane.
• Downtown, woman in high heels texts while j-strutting through frantic traffic.
• At the supermarket, suburban Momma barks at her bluetooth while ignoring her kids and budging to the front of the 10-item line (with 22 groceries in her cart).

Just another day, right?  Does anybody ever catch up, slow down and smell the fall colors any more?

5 ways to stop rushing

1. In the morning, upon waking up, stay in bed a while, and decide to do something (that isn’t on your to-do list) soothing that day.
2. Mid-morning, go outside for a walk, bike ride, or any other exercise bit.
3. At lunch, before you munch, give thanks, and remember the many that are hungry.
4. In the afternoon, when you’re feeling sleepy anyway, take a silence break—meditation, catnap, siesta; doesn’t really matter what you call it.
5. Before bed, unplug and play some mellow music, or just listen to some if you’re musically challenged.

As for me, the days that I don’t do some of those things (among other ‘habits’) are the days that feel lost—no matter how much I accomplished.

Seems modern-day survival relies on speedy multitasking.

But how much of that obsession actually amounts to anything?  How can we so value productivity yet admit we dislike our jobs, go deeper in debt, and suffer from crippling unemployment?  Wouldn’t it be great to recalibrate our collective priorities?

Maybe we’d use our time differently.  Maybe we’d take our time—literally—now and then.

Big-time BreakAways can wait.  But small-time breaks always await—and demand far less energy than they give back.

Ever wanted to ask a bunch of experts about how and why to BreakAway?  Well then, please join me and four fun, savvy smarties when we meet up for a few hours on October 18.  We’ll gather in Honey, a sweet club by Nye’s in Minneapolis, from 7-9, with doors and cheap sips starting at 6.

The event is called MeetPlanGo (this is Year 2) and it’s happening in 17 cities nationwide.  Wow!  Please meet your impressive panel…

• Julie DuRose: chef-turned-nomad who ate her way around the world for a year–half of it solo after a breakaway break-up–and lived to write about it;
• Layne Kennedy: acclaimed photographer who has shot everything from pink dolphins in the Amazon to Inuits in Greenland–for LIFE, National Geographic, Sports Illustrated and more;
• Kara McGuire: mother of three and author of an award-winning personal finance column in the StarTribune who knows a thing or two about saving money; and
• Leif Pettersen: a freelance writer, insatiable traveler, slightly caustic blogger and semi-professional wino who is a regular contributer to Lonely Planet.

And, of course, yours truly…

For details and registration, click here.  Hope to see you there!

Survey sez…

• 32% of parents play computer games with their children every day
• 80% described this as quality time

Source:  PopCap Games

Screen living continues to turn us on.  If 80% of parents say Guitar Hero kicks butt over Guitar Lessons, then bring on Milli Vanilli.  If two out of three play games daily with their children, then bye-bye badminton.

Hey, who can blame the ‘rents?  Our best diversions may have been Donkey Kong, Rockem’ Sockem’ Robots, or perhaps a bike.  As one dad snickered to me when I was barking about our kids’ digital jones,

C’mon.  You’re just jealous ‘cuz they have cooler stuff than you did.”

No doubt.  Still, there are still countless “cool” alternatives awaiting those open to off-screen quality time with their kids…

11  Quality Time Alternatives to Playing Computer Games with Your Children

1. Take guitar lessons and play that thing.
2. Bake a cake.  (Box will do.)
3. Go to outdoor sports event and get noisy.
4. Play cards, backgammon, checkers, or chess.
5. Light a bonfire, with plenty of flaming marshmallows.
6. Chase; young kids love it.
7. Read things out loud.
8. Play catch.
9. Dig out their old 3D toys.
10. Make hand-made cards for faraway friends.
11. Fish.

What’s your idea of quality time?  What would you add to the list?  I’m listening…

Downtowns are supposed to be places where we can walk, gawk and escape our routine.  Make some celebration.  Stumble on an odd adventure.  And feel the beat of the streets.  When traveling—whether to New York or to Tokyo—who doesn’t wander, eyes agog, to take it all in?

• Diversity ≠ danger

I took this picture in the spring of 1981.  After an all-night Greyhound ride from Chicago, I awoke in Minneapolis and took my first stroll down notorious Block E.  The Prudes That Be said it was squalid and scary—and thus eventually tore everything down to erect a mall that has failed.

To me, Block E buzzed with verve and authenticity; even the signage sings, if at times a raunchy tune.  So I hung out there now and then.  After attending Game 7 of the 1987 World Series, I ended up in Moby Dick’s and witnessed astonishing elation and conviviality.

• Now the Hard Rock crumbles…

23 years later, the soul-less, mammoth mall that replaced Moby’s and all the rest is now nearly empty.  Hard Rock will close by the end of the month.  Generic chain joints like Applebee’s, Hooters, GameWorks, and Panchero’s are already gone.

Perhaps the saddest twist of fate is this:  The new owners who bought the building have big plans of tearing this iteration down to erect a $200 million casino and hotel.

If this is progress, call me old-school.  Like dog poop that you step in and then spread it all over, the porn and strip joints they shut down have simply moved a few blocks to other locations; at least they used to be mostly on one block (which anyone could avoid and where cops and bouncers were abundant).

You could get “a whale of a drink” at Moby’s and get a dang-good-and-cheap “filet de boeuf” at 2 AM at Best Steak House.  If the new owners get their way, you can feed your gambling addiction and their pockets instead.

• Pictures preserve memories, if nothing else

Like all good career break and travel advocates, I’m also an unprofessional photographer.  Today’s news reminds me why.  There’s nothing fancy about this image.  Yet it becomes more precious as the years pass—both because it rouses inimitable memories, and because it preserves a vanished scene.

Do you have a list, written or not, of things you want to do before you…expire?  If so, that’s your bucket list, a term that everybody seems to detest, but gets more usage all the time anyway.  I’m here today to state that YES!  Why not?  Keep a dang bucket list, if only in your cranium.  There’s power in that thing.

And it seems like recently, the bucket list phenomenon has dumped on me many ways; here are a few…

• The rock show.

I’ve found myself at two concerts this summer because, in part, friends had decided that seeing U2 and The Jayhawks were on their bucket list.  So what if I’m not a big fan of either?  A great time was had by all and my buddies accomplished a life goal.

• “The bucket list lie.”

Soul brother blogger Jonathan Fields disses the list and insists that a “list of one” (just for today) is a better way to go.  He gets swamped with hundreds of weighty responses.

• “Bucket List,” the movie.

While on my last career break (spending 69 days in the West Indies with my family) we watched this fine movie.  Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman offer moving performances as terminally ill elders, and it served to remind me that I was lucky to be drinking from that blessed bucket at that very moment.

• All to say…

I hope your bucket list has not been thrown out with the trash.  After all, the only way you’ll GET what you want…is if you KNOW what you want.

That’s true whether it’s as simple as a $25 concert at 1^st Avenue, or as complicated as island-hopping for most of one winter in a place where the starfruit falls off the tree and the Calypso music echoes over the bay.

Speaking of career breaks, for sure the only folks who achieve one are the ones who keep the faith, no matter how irrational.  These things take time—sometimes decades—to actualize.  But belief beats the alternative:  Giving up.  While the story is still being written.

Even during dark days and droughts, the bucket can be half-full, right?