FINIS

This all started with Loose Change, Dan’s desire to move south and my need to process what that meant. I’m now at the end of this journey. Not quite where I had planned, “a sunset viewing from Mallory Square in Key West”, but close enough. At the time I said, “My inertia comes from other places that I need to explore. Extended family, a multitude of friends, community and neighborhood, a great job, a house I love and a feeling of stability I'm afraid to uproot.”

I know now that wasn’t true. I lacked (we both lacked) the catalyst required to make a big change. For my 17 loyal readers you know that the catalyst triggered over a year ago when my 15-year position ended with my employer in Milwaukee. We were faced with a choice – find suitable replacement income in the area, or move. Dan and I chose to move, because if not then, when?

Was it easy? No. We went insane for a while, dramatically downsizing (but in hindsight, not quite enough). Internet searches found us a rental that would take a big dog and landed us in a 624-square-foot house. And can I just say that people who want to live in a tiny house are bat-shit crazy.

It’s been a wild, scary, lonely, and exhilarating year. We found a new home in a community that we love. I’ve found a terrific job doing work that energizes me. We’ve both met new people and are starting to add to our collection of friends (there’s always room for more). And we are settling in to our new home, our new environment and the consequences of our decision to move.

Did we lose things along the way? Yes, proximity to family and friends, familiar routines, faces and places, and the comfort of knowing every street and landmark. Have we gained things? Again, yes. Dan is finally warm year-round, we know we can meet any challenge and we’ve found out that our children are our biggest role models and cheerleaders. (Shout-out to Carl and Hunter for great advice along the way!)

So here we are, just a 428-mile drive from Mallory Square, in a very lovely community. We have great neighbors, we found a welcoming coven of liberal thinkers and we enjoy the lifestyle of year-round warm. I’ve had the opportunity to reconnect with cousins who’ve included us in family gatherings even though we were quite distant before we landed here in Florida, and for that we are both grateful.

Change is hard. Big change is really hard. But it can be done, even if all you start with is loose change.

Songs that Resonate:

Photograph - Nickelback (for Carl and Hunter)

100 Years - Five for Fighting

The trouble with airports

To my 17 loyal readers, my apologies, it’s been a strange and distracting summer, and I haven’t been able to capture and share my thoughts. This is my best attempt to jump back into the blog-o-sphere.

It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on Earth has ever produced the expression "As pretty as an airport." (Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency, by Douglas Adams)

Let’s face it; nothing brings you down faster from the high of a trip than an airport. It’s a bookend fact of life. You’re excited to go somewhere, but you have to start at the airport. If you don’t score the TSA pre-check, you are forced to shed clothing, get a body scan and re-dress in a recombobulation area (a real place at MKE). This causes me quite a bit of stress when I’m traveling with Dan, who is always “two foops from naked”. He’s always ready to foop, foop, naked and “any other questions." I choose another line; I do not know him at TSA. And then, days later, your wonderful trip is over and you return to the airport. Delays, or sprints between gates to catch the connecting flight. If you miss your connection, or the flight home is cancelled, enjoy the $12 dinner voucher and 4 hours of sleep at an airport hotel. Delightful.

Most recently, Dan and I took off in separate directions. He left on a Friday to fly to PHL via ORD; a trip to help the kids determine if a house was worth consideration. He arrived at MKE 90 minutes prior to takeoff. The first flight was uneventful. The second flight from ORD to PHL was delayed eight times. He tells me he led two of the three passenger uprisings, and scored free drinks for the entire plane when it finally took off over 9 hours late. Go Dan. I took a business trip to MCO via IAH, with a return through CLT back to MKE. On both the outbound and return I had to sprint to a new terminal and find the gate at the farthest possible distance from my starting point. Cardio.

I know why blue hairs drive Lincolns (we are a Ford family). They can sit on a rolling couch for a few hours a day; barely driving with the cruise control on and listen to talk radio. They are retired, they can take weeks to arrive calmly at a destination, with 20 stops along the way at a Waffle House, or Cracker Barrel, or iHOP, or some other nasty chain restaurant. The can check into any number of hotels off the interstate, with their AAA and AARP discount cards. They can avoid the painful waits in ugly airports with overpriced drinks, mediocre food and plastic ware. Their blood pressure stays normal as a delay in their trip is by choice, and they don’t have to put their heart meds to the test on a sprint between gates.

I’ve always said that the only requirement for us to relocate is that we are within reasonable distance from an airport, able to reach our children quickly. But, the more time we spend in airports, I wonder, perhaps we just need to be close to a Lincoln dealer.

Music that resonates:

Hot Rod Lincoln - Commander Cody

The Musician and the Thespian

Hunter & Carl, 1987

The holidays are coming and this was holiday party weekend. An open house tonight found us enjoying the energy of small children. Of course, those of us with children fully grown started to reminisce about magic moments when our kids were growing up. We have two adult sons who are without a doubt the most wonderful guys in the world. Certainly in my world and Dan’s world.

Hunter & Carl, 1996

Resistance to moving south has always been contingent on their futures. I made it clear to Dan early and often that if the boys stayed in the Milwaukee area I needed to be there too. However, they’ve charted a different course, away from home and drop-in visits.

Carl, the musician, lives in Philadelphia, with plans to make a musical future for himself in New York. Music is what he loves. More importantly, it makes him happy. He first picked up an instrument in the fifth grade. Carl was set on being a tuba player but due to size, forced to start on the baritone. This was not acceptable and as soon as he hit middle school he convinced the band director to let him switch. As a freshman in high school he discovered the bass guitar as the passport to the jazz ensemble. He taught himself to play, using an instrument borrowed from his Uncle Brian.

Carl & Hunter, Peavey museum, 2000.

Sophomore year was a crucial point for Carl in asserting control over his destiny. He walked around the house for hours on end with the bass in his hands. More than a few arguments were focused on our requests for him to put the bass down and “DO YOUR HOMEWORK”. Exasperated by less than stellar grades we took him to a psychologist for an evaluation. The therapist showed us a picture Carl drew of a mobile home threatened by a large, nasty looking tornado. Carl had explained that it was “the juxtaposition of outside factors on the safety of the home and family”. Take a chill pill mom and dad, nothing wrong with this kid.

Hunter (center) & Carl (right) in Music Man, 2002

Hunter, the thespian, always knew he wanted to be an actor. In the third grade he donned a hula skirt, bikini top and lipstick in a risky performance for Odyssey of the Mind. He got his first video camera in grade school and made a stop-motion short story for a middle school project. Hunter was cast in two First Stage productions and all but one of the high school plays. He wrote and directed “Zombies, the Musical” for the Student Play Festival at Wauwatosa East. He brought tears to my eyes as a fireman in "Working", in a production staged by his theater class.

While in college we’d hear about a project Hunter was involved with, and if we were lucky enough, he’d let us know when and where to see a performance. He’s written and directed his own full length movie, a project that found me dying a slow and painful death covered in blood colored liquid laundry detergent. “Now mom, could you just gasp and struggle until your final breath? Oh, and then hold your breath and DON'T MOVE until I say cut.” (My best and only movie role and it hit the cutting room floor.) He landed a lead role in the independent movie Driver's Ed Mutiny. And just like Carl, Hunter is truly happy with this life choice.

As a parent the best thing in the world is to see your children thriving, happy and pursuing their dreams. That’s what my kids are doing. They no longer live in their home town, they are pursuing dreams and their adult futures in other places, with plans to move even farther away. My resistance to moving diminished when it became clear that one or both of them would be a plane ticket away, no matter where we live.

Hunter & Carl 2010