Category: Travel

  • Anachronisms (Or 3 Reasons Why I Love My Electronic Devices)

    My youngest son and I were talking about eating alone in restaurants, when I flashed back to life before cell phones, tablets, GPS and Internet connectivity. He’s a nice guy, so he didn’t tease me about my “Why in my day, Sonny, we used to . . .” moment. Electronic devices have profoundly changed the outcome of several awkward or frustrating experiences.

    Eating Alone

    While traveling for business in the late 1980’s, I faced a dilemma that no longer exists: how to eat alone in a restaurant without looking weird or attracting unwanted attention.

    Articles for career women advised bringing a book and reading at dinner. That way you wouldn’t feel stupid, and you wouldn’t attract sleazy guys trying to pick you up. Or you could order room service and avoid the whole issue.

    I usually preferred a good meal with a glass of wine to a dry turkey sandwich in my room, so I learned to carry a book. Wait staffs’ reactions and service varied from dismissive to sympathetic. To boost my confidence and convey that I had a right to be there, I was pleasant but a bit aloof. While waiting for my order I sipped my wine and read. Usually that worked, but sometimes I didn’t have the energy for the performance.

    Now I can take my smartphone or tablet and catch up on email, check Facebook, read online, or write and be legitimately busy and content. I don’t have to worry that I look pathetic or vulnerable.

    Missing Connections

    Before cell phones, bad luck could ruin a rendezvous. Imagine this: you’re in Chicago on business. You have a free afternoon before your flight and want to see a college friend. You agree to meet by the lions in front of the Art Institute at 1:00. By 1:15, you’re checking your watch and wondering. At 1:35, you’re frustrated and uncertain. Stay? Go? What’s going on?!?

    Screen Shot 2015-05-27 at 10.47.28 PM

    There was no way for your friend to call or text to say, “Missed my train. Can I meet you inside by the Chagall window at 2:00 instead?” You could go inside alone but she’d have no idea where to find you. Or you could leave, angry and disappointed. Either way, you would have missed each other. The afternoon of laughs and reminiscing couldn’t be salvaged.

    Getting Lost

    MissouriFor years, I’ve driven cross-country for family visits to Ohio or vacations in Virginia, Texas, and Montana. I also think nothing of driving to a distant suburb to meet friends for dinner. Usually I navigate these trips successfully . . . as long as I have a map or Garmin for GPS.

    Occasionally, though, I’ve gotten spectacularly lost. Driving 30 miles out my way near Green Bay, Wisconsin. Circling Eden Prairie, Minnesota for 40 minutes (and Eden Prairie isn’t that big). Hubris accounted for these mishaps. I thought I knew where I was going, so I didn’t bring a map.

    Back in the day, the only solution was to stop and ask for directions. I had to hope the person was reliable and not a knucklehead who’d send me the wrong way, because he forgot to mention three important turns.

    If there’s no cell phone signal (rural Montana and Wisconsin come to mind), I can be just as lost as in the old days. Google maps and GPS have definitely reduced the likelihood that I’ll get lost during a road trip, but sometimes they are wrong or incomplete. Just in case, I still carry a paper map and keep my cell phone charged up.

    How about you? What difficult situation has become a thing of the past because of your electronic devices?

  • Why I Listen To Books On Tape

    mojave_crossing_9780553276800Almost all of my reading takes place in the car. So much so that in the evening if I have any free time I wonder what to do because I don’t have a book on the end table calling to me.

    In the car, I have a horse neighing for my attention. Tell Sackett is running from gunshots.

    Louis L’Amour’s, Mojave Crossing, is a William Tell Sackett book. Sometimes I just need a good Western to take my mind off things. It’s also a way to look forward to Monday’s and the 45 minute drive to work. Listening to the narrator I find myself wanting to twist, turn and yell, “No, don’t go there, Tell.” But, of course he does.

    As a writer, I find value in listening to books on tape the same is if I was reading the paperback. Louis L’Amour’s description of the landscape, the people, the saloon, is a ‘how to’ lesson for me. She had the clearest, creamiest skin you ever did see and a mouth that fairly prickled the hair on the back of your neck. I also listen for how he places summary with action.

    He’s found the formula to give me just enough summary so I don’t get bored and then he slingshots me back to the present.

    Often, I click Stop while listening to a book on tape and ask myself, Ok, how did he or she just do that? Or, what is making me want to continue listening to this book?

    It will take me a few miles to ponder these questions. I am at work in no time at all.

    Sometimes, I will hit on a series of books and I can follow the writer’s growth. Tamarack County was one such book by William Kent Krueger. I had listened to a number of his earlier books and there were some where I skipped to the last CD to hear the ending. With Tamarack County it was interesting from the first CD to the end. I tried skipping and had to rewind.

    I was eager to listen to his latest book Ordinary Grace. After finishing Mojave Crossing I slid in the Krueger CD. I fell off my horse. It took me a bit to get used to the change of pace – from constant danger – to a walk on a railroad trestle.

    Besides listening to westerns and mysteries, I like to skip around to memoir, literary fiction, and self help books. One thing that is good to know, I can always come back to a Louis L’Amour western and find a Sackett lying still on the wet ground, shaking with chill, knowing he has to get warm or die.

    I encourage you to try books on tape. I’ve listed below links to information on what others consider good books.

    http://bestfantasybooks.com/blog/top-10-best-fantasy-audiobooks/

    http://www.buzzfeed.com/juliafurlan/books-make-everything-better

    http://pjhoover.blogspot.com/2009/08/ear-or-eye-what-makes-for-good-audio.html

    http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/the-best-narrated-audio-books-167299

    http://www.goodreads.com/list/tag/audiobook

    http://airshipdaily.com/blog/the-10-greatest-audiobook-narrators-insomniac-guide

     

  • Slouching Toward Retirement

    I’m not ready to retire yet.  But if I squint I can see it from here. And I don’t like how it looks.

    womanondock Baby Boomer To Do List

    1. Figure out a retirement that I want to be a part of.

    2. Invent a new approach to assisted living/aging in place.

    3. Think up better ways to volunteer/give back.

    4. Consider my legacy—what it is and how I can help others understand and value it.

    5. Resist irrelevancy, crankiness, and being set in my ways.

    1. Figure out a retirement that I want to be a part of. 

    Trend specialists are always predicting that Baby Boomers will change the face of retirement, just as we have changed so many other institutions (the workplace, motherhood, marriage, etc.)  I sure hope so. Living in a retirement community where golf and bingo are the main attractions does not appeal to me.

    Boomers tend to think we’re pretty interesting, and we assume we’ll remain so in retirement. In fact, being cool is probably our birthright! Of course, we’ll invent a better version of retirement.

    But I wonder how excited we’ll be about riding our Harleys across the country, when our backs ache and our knees are going . . . . And that assumes we’ll even be retiring. Financial necessity will motivate a lot of Boomers to keep working past age 65. And who will be taking care of our elderly parents and the kids that might not be fully launched?

    OK, OK. That’s WAY too much reality. Retirement is years away. Let me get back to creatively daydreaming about how I want retirement to look.

    I want it to look like less work, more fun. I want a smaller place (less cleaning, less stuff), but I still want to have a postage stamp-sized yard so I can garden on a smaller scale. I hope to resume some hobbies I set aside for lack of time – pottery, for example. I’d like to learn how to do raku. Making stuff from paper—cards, collages and so forth. Jewelry and stained glass. Quilting and sewing. Maybe I’ll take up canning. Indulge my foodie self a bit more. Start a gourmet dinner group.

    Travel. Maybe I can learn enough Italian so I could teach English in Italy while my husband learns the secrets of Italian cooking. Or perhaps I can study abroad (can grown-ups do that, too?), Sounds expensive. Wait, wait. No reality.  I’m daydreaming here.

    Be more random and spontaneous. Take back roads and visit antique stores and cafes in little towns instead of always taking the interstate. Go to movies, concerts, plays, art galleries that I’ve never heard of. Decide on a Thursday to visit an airline fare sale city on Saturday—just to see what’s there.

    I’ll definitely keep on writing whether or not I get paid. I’ve got a lot more stories to tell and perspectives to share. Besides, I’m a writer to the bone—I can’t stop even if I want to.

    Keep thinking and learning. I’ve never understood how you retire your mind.  I’m way too curious and I love learning new things. I hope to audit college classes, take workshops, and read voraciously.

    I intend to continue volunteering, but perhaps in different ways (more to come about #3).

    I plan to keep active and healthy, but I don’t want to be obsessed with it. I’m unlikely to spend more than an hour per day on keeping fit.

    I want to help my kids fix up their homes when they buy them and play with their kids if they have some.

    Oh yeah, I’m still hoping to have some lasting impact on the world. I figure I’ve got at least 20 more good years. I ought to be able to change the world in that amount of time, right? I know, I know. Tick tock.

    Well, except for the last one, these are pretty modest retirement goals. Sounds like a life I could live.

    What do you hope to be doing?