Pinch Me, I'm Dreaming

Guess where we’ve been spending Christmas week? In the snow with good friends in Lake Tahoe’s North Shore, with a sprinkling of Squaw Valley Ho-Ho-Ho thrown in for good measure. Not bad for poor kids, huh?

We're on the road with no particular destination, again. I do enjoy my nomadic lifestyle, even though it’s taken 11,000 miles to really appreciate. It’s been wonderful spending time with family and friends in their permanent homes, with (seemingly) unlimited hot water and huge refrigerators.  BC’s enjoyed meeting new friends, but she must emit some dog-pheromones because she’s still a target for some whose owners assure me their this-or-that are completely docile, honest-to-God. Prospective in-laws often repeat similar claims.

But I don’t think I’ll be imposing myself on other's time as much as I have. For one thing those huge refrigerators are chock full of healthy, foreign-looking food.  Give me Vienna Sausages or Strawberry Pop Tarts over turkey bacon any day.  I don’t do tofu, most greens or foods which look like, as Mom would say, “Second time on Earth.” Imagine some cranberry side dishes you’ve seen in your day. Besides, anything healthy and my body goes into shock.


I’m kinda funny when it comes to food and cooking, so I always barter with my hosts: “You cook; I’ll clean.”  That works well, but dishpan hands cry for my one-package-only style of cooking.  On the road I often live on fried chicken picked up at gas stations, served in environmentally-friendly brown paper bags.

Here's one confession which might cause me trouble:  across the miles I’ve developed a deep and abiding hatred of Smartphones, and their undue influence on those I love.  I initially penned a caustic op-ed but since I’m likely the only one reading who does NOT own a Smartphone or similar device I deleted it.  As Charlie Brown said, “I need all the friends I can get.”

Whenever Sis or I whined, Mom would say, “Only boring people get bored.” That pops into mind while sitting quietly, waiting patiently for the person opposite me to reply to never-ending text messages interrupting our conversation. Remember when it was considered common courtesy to hang up or at least put down the telephone receiver when conversing face to face with another human?  Aaahhh…that was before texting, which is OK since no words are actually spoken, I guess.

I've learned the condition is known as FOMO, or Fear of Missing Out. I pine for the Dark Ages when people communicated in a more meaningful way.  I’m bored to tears watching fingers fly across miniature keypads, and even during down-times one hand remains at the ready. My mind starts to think of the half-dozen projects I could be working on rather than engaging further.

Therefore, one of my New Year’s Resolutions is to save my meager resources for experiences which further enrich my life.  I still hold out hope for a man with a great sense of humor; who enjoys films by Akira Kurosawa; is creative in his own right; looks like Armand Assante at any age; and is not obsessed with his portfolio, hairline, sex drive OR electronics.  Santa promises that if I’m good enough…


No…wait!  I already went through that shit with my last partner.  Santa better deliver, JUST AS I AM, or I'm driving up to the North Pole to have a FACE TO FACE.  And if I’m really lucky, my next-Ex won’t demand a pre-nup.