When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be. – Lao Tzu
End of April, 2024. Last year. Sent my good buddy Michael “Greenie” Greehan a piece of writing I stumbled across. “The Gold Coast” is a glimpse of his neighborhood a few decades ago. He asks, Are you coming back to research a follow-up piece? I am not that subtle, I tell him. I am waiting for you to invite us to visit.
And he did, of course. How exciting and then you forget about it. To be honest, I don’t really like to go places, I just like to get invited. “You are always welcome,” Greenie said. “Dogs are not required in order to stay here, of course. But they are welcome, too.”
Oh, good. Last time we were thereabouts was 2017. Both aunt & uncle have died since. We really need to visit a relative there. Cousin is an award-winning, barrier-breaking snake breeder. Think glow-in-the-dark boa constrictors that cost as much as my first new car.
Old, hot, gimpy and worried is no vacation. Used to be a time in DeSantistan when parking improved, prices went down, traffic lessened. Don’t get me started.
CLIMATE CHANGE IS REAL. There, I said it. Come and get me. Couple months later, my knee is broke, big ass hurricane coming, and Greenie offers me shelter in the storm. That’s a five-hour drive, without evacuation traffic, meanwhile I can hardly get to the bathroom. Knee breaks again, there’s another gigantic storm and another offer from Greenie. Another break, same knee. That’s three, if you are counting. Idea of a fourth freaks me out, to be honest. Four might break me.
Right about here, told myself, if hurricane season ever ends – get my leg to help more than it hurts – I am gonna visit that nice man. Come Hell or high water, which basically describes last year.
We’ll leave the dogs at home. You’ve met my bride, the pretty nervous lady. She is not sleeping amidst a houseful of bone-crushing nocturnal hunters. Toss in two crazy dogs, strangers, no nap, high speed driving!!!! I don’t have much money, but what I do have I use to buy sanity. Mine, if not hers. So, definitely a kennel. We use DogTel 62. Like Motel 8, but much nicer and certainly more expensive.
Except for groceries, medical appointments and a three-hour Bob Ross painting class, haven’t left the house since July Fourth. Last year. Decided to pop my head back out for Groundhog’s Day,
You may already know about hygge and lagom—two popular lifestyle trends coined and popularized by the Scandinavians, but have you heard of döstädning?
Nope, NEVER heard of hygge nor lagom neither.
Döstädning, which means “death cleaning” in English, is a new method of downsizing and organizing from the Swedish author and artist Margareta Magnusson. The approach is designed as an easy way for folks over 50 to purge their homes and organize their possessions in hopes that their children won’t be overburdened by their belongings once they pass away, according to The Chronicle. Sure, it sounds morbid, but it’s actually a pretty smart idea.
Fifty seems a little young. The children overburdened you all their lives, they’ll recover.
Death cleaning isn’t about getting rid of all your stuff, but rather streamlining your life so you’re only holding onto what makes you happy. “Death cleaning is not about dusting or mopping up,” Magnusson told The Chronicle. “It is about a permanent form of organization that makes your everyday life run more smoothly.” – Source: Country Living.
Wild Dog Life Cleansing is almost just like that. WDLC is about a temporary form of disorientation that makes your everyday life more copacetic upon your return. So important to get back safely. Please make a note.
Thinking safety, I schedule an oil change and new wipers. Decide to get my steps in while I wait. Petco has baby boas for $399.00. Obviously, your routine, low-grade sickly reptiles, nothing like the artisanal curated healthy designer snakes my family breeds. Find my pride where I can.
Groundhog’s Day Weekend
Had planned to drive south like we used to when Mom was still alive. Then I remembered the Wild Dog Life Cleanse is not about taking the same Interstate ‘like we used to.’
Also, there’s asking a reliable resource how to get there, studying the three suggested routes and then going your own way. What? Why? Their way, the shortest way, has like two turns. Left on 50, right onto the Florida Turnpike, Exit 93, hello, you’re there. Five hours, 250 miles, a good test for me.
Test drive, Greenie visit, Cousin reunion, Groundhog’s Day Celebration, change of scenery, it all adds up to a critical mass. When I make a move, like to gather many reasons to go, create my own momentum.
An adventure. Make it there and back – safely – who knows what new horizons will show themselves and do whatever new horizons do. Feel cleaner already.
Friday
Notes sparse, recall spotty. On the way out of town, we had to stop to pick up my blood thinner. Paused at a Florida Turnpike rest area. Bathrooms all the way at the distant rear; packed place reeks of fast food, overrun by busloads of boisterous cheerleaders. Felt like an invisible pinball.
Greenie – an 800m specialist with a 2:17 marathon PR – has generously gotten himself in worse physical condition than am I. And his girlfriend Linda has a dog named Dottie. Feel better just typing the bitch’s name. Dottie is a twelve-pound Shih Tzu. The breed standard says these dogs are “playful, affectionate and outgoing.” We have a winner.
The rest of the evening is a blur of doggy-style love and salmon and furry snuggles and Athletic non-alcoholic beer with tummy rubs.
Saturday
Haven’t stopped drinking, but I rarely drink at all now. Okay, a beer with a buddy maybe. None of this a little wine with dinner because the next thing you know it’s a needle ‘tween the toes. As it is, wake up most mornings feeling like most nights I must’ve drained half a bottle of one hundred proof Ol’ Mr. Mule Kicker.
Greenie lives on a half mile loop, and “first thing” I do a couple tours. Still using two canes, figure I laid down a sub-thirty-minute mile. No applause, please.
Todd took us to dinner, to a place he discovered when the sushi joint was closed.
First, self-check-out; now, this – the Hot Spot. Otherwise known as the Hot Pot Restaurant.
“Contemporary meets traditional, interactive dining Vietnamese Hot Pot with savory flavors, premium thin meats and homemade sauces with a modern vibe.” https://www.hotspotrestaurants.com/menu Nothing modern about cold chicken feet. A completely new experience, just what I was asking for. Basically cooked my own soup.
Thank you, Kerry and Todd. This old dog can’t see to drive at night, so appreciate being chauffeured around in your new blue Subaru.
Groundhog’s Day
The climatologically-impaired rodent predicts six more weeks of winter and every day since, we’ve hit eighty degrees F. It’s Spring!!! I don’t care what any creature says.
Todd gave me a box of mementos. I checked for air holes. To no one’s surprise, Aunt Joanne and Uncle Tom did not practice Döstädning and their attic is completely engorged with all manner of stuff and things and files and one less box of mementos.
Last time I saw my Uncle he announced in consecutive sentences he had dementia and a gun. ‘Not any more, sit down and eat your dessert.’ He was the kind of man who would find a pair of shoes he liked at a good price and he’d buy a dozen pair. Figure eleven boxes in the attic. That’s just the footwear.
Loved that man so much. Owed Tom so much. I was a little boy, remember telling him, “I knew Aunt Joanne’s boyfriend before you and I like you much better.’ He gave me a quarter, a lot of money at the time.
They had a tradition, Todd and Joanne and Tom breakfasted together every Sunday morning. Family thing. Tight. Let’s have breakfast together, I told him, you and me. Let’s start a new tradition. Two children of Punxsutawney mothers at The Diner On Gateway for Sunday breakfast.
Before I could even watch the festivities from “Punxsy” – as the locals there say – Todd picked me up at my front door. This old dog doesn’t like to drive around in strange towns in the daylight. Todd likes to go to breakfast way too early so he generous delayed his arrival to 0800 hours.
Took illish walking into The Diner, sat down and quietly began calculating my barf radius. “You look sick as hell, Cuz,” Todd says. “Let’s get you out of here.”
So, we went back to Greenie’s swank digs – aka The Mutt Hut – and just hung out together for three or four hours. Not long enough.
After lunch, Greenie and I drive the 1.7 miles to the pool, where we carefully get into the shallow end. Feels real good. Cleansing. Next thing you know, I’m motoring back and forth, imagining myself the number seven man on the NAU XC team coming back from a career-ending injury. I’ll show them. I’ll run again. Then I remember I couldn’t run before I got hurt.
Watch an old old old man pass me. I was dog paddling at the time. He’s wearing a blue Ralph Lauren baseball cap with red sun glasses, #ENDCANCER on the stems, Ninety-seven-year-old Bernie looks exactly like Louis Zamperini. Unbroken.
Off Balance Track Meet
That reminds me – added bonus – we planned to watch the televised indoor track meet put on by one of the few shoe companies we never worked for. We did watch it, the television was on anyway, but about then Greenie asks me if I am hungry and what I would like. A great host, he wants me to be happy.
I have never in my life ordered a meal delivered to my home. Not so much as a pizza. Still a hunter-gatherer, I focus on the track & field. Laugh out loud when Quincy Wilson explains his record-breaking performance. “Something happened” a couple weeks earlier, the kid says. He lost, that’s what happened; the kid can’t even say the words. Good for him.
What I think I heard in the background went something like this:
I ordered from the Uber app, and an item was not available. The restaurant called me to offer another option but I declined. I asked for bang bang shrimp tacos but told there was a price difference. I had no issue with paying the price difference but told it was not an option. Since there was no resolution, the manager advised me to CANCEL the order on Uber because she could not do so. What the manager failed to explain is that I would still get charged the full amount from Uber for food & delivery. When I brought this to restaurant’s attention, the manager stated that since it is a 3rd party, they could not assist; rather than LISTEN to my feedback to TRAIN THE MANAGEMENT on 3rd party cancellations. And that they DO have the ability to cancel an order.
“I don’t think I am even hungry any more,” Greenie said. Finally, Outback answered their phone. Kingsland Pasta = Grilled steak and shrimp over fettuccine noodles tossed in a bold Alfredo sauce. Not my usual fare. I ate all 1560 calories. That nutritional info can really dent my appetite sometimes.
More Athletic non-alcoholic beer.
Monday
Like to tell you more about Dottie. I miss her so much. Let’s just say, it was both intense, and restorative. Gentlemen don’t talk about their romantic assignations, but she does make me want to be a better man.
Which I am.
Get home – never exceeding 90 mph – and Ragnar knows. Frenetic Sniffing. Good name for a rock band. He knows – I’ve been with someone else. He senses something more – I smell different. Refreshed.
Cleansed.
“How does one become a butterfly?,” Trina Paulus asks. Then answers her own question. “You have to want to learn to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar.” A slow caterpillar at that.
Decades ago, I heard much the same thing from Aldous Huxley and Jim Morrison. ‘Break on through to the other side.’
Basically, don’t let your groove become a rut.
If you spend the rest of your life waiting for the other shoe to drop, it’ll be the death of you.
You know I am right.
Make a move.
Maybe get a snake.
People tell me, "You're such an optimist". Am I an optimist? An optimist says the glass is half full. A pessimist says the glass is half empty. A survivalist is practical. He says, "Call it what you want, but just fill the glass." I believe in filling the glass. - Louis Zamperini