There's That Song Again

Is there an "adventure" gene in guys? If there is, maybe its powers run inverse to T-Levels. Why else would old guys pursue things like Harleys®, Vespas®, boats, RVs and/or Trophy-Wives? Could it be that there are sirens out there luring us with their song?

The Siren, oil on canvas, Leeds Art Gallery

[I wish I could remember which humor-blessed person commented on a guy's not-so-lovely Trophy Wife, "She obviously wasn't the First Place Trophy."]

My Amazing-Missus has lovingly tolerated my adventure seeking for many years and several pursuits: Huge career change, Moving our young family to a tiny, wonderful community in western Oklahoma, a sailboat, a Vespa (as long as I wear my helmet and florescent green vest), and now--drum roll--an Airstream® travel trailer.

It's not actually the old geezer RV life that is appealing to me, in fact that's a stereotype I want to avoid completely. You know the image: old guys in the black support socks and those one-piece jump suit things, comparing the sizes of each others holding tanks, bragging of how many slide-outs their rig has.

I'm sorry if I may have offended some with my characterization, but hey, if the velcro-close SAS® fits, wear it. The fact is some of those guys are heroes of mine.

For me, it's answering the call of the open road in an iconic, classic, silvery piece of art. For now, it's simply in the exploring the possibilities stage: Googling, reading blogs, lusting after the life of the adventurous "full-timers." Yes, there are people who have sold all and are living full time in an Airstream travel trailer.

When I first mentioned this to my Amazing-Missus, I'm surprised she didn't say, "Have you ever thought about looking for a trophy wife?" But no! We loaded in the car and made a six-hour road trip to walk through brand new, shiny, Airstreams!

Now I know why hardcore Airstreamers refer to "SOBs." They speak of their beloved icons and then the class of all other RVs as "Some Other Brand." Airstreams rise to the level of having a mystique that extends way beyond the physical thing. And as happens with these types of phenomena, followers take on a cult-like persona. Pass me the Kool-Aid®.

In my Airstream fantasy, our quest starts sooner rather than later, after all, I'm not getting any younger. I quickly learned, however, that my dream-stream exceeds the cash-on-hand. And I don't like the idea of going in to debt for expensive toys; OR, is this an investment in the journey of a lifetime. Let the justification begin.

Stay tuned for more… In the meantime, What does your current mad adventure look like?

Halo Amok

HOT SHOTS AND KNOW IT ALLS

Last night we heard and watched Wayne White at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art.  Wayne is an artist. Which always seems to bring up the question--who gets to say who's an artist and who isn't? With Wayne that question would come to the mind of any skeptic who sees his work. But don't judge too quickly. Sometimes you just have to spend time with the artist and their work. You may have spent time with Wayne's work and not even known it. Maybe your kids watched "Pee Wee's Playhouse." Wayne was a set designer, puppeteer, and creative. But, as I said, don't judge too quickly.

By the way, Wayne is one of us (Baby Boomers)--born in 1957.

If you're not familiar with Wayne, start with the film "Beauty Is Embarrassing." It's available on Netflix® and when you decide to add it to your library you can purchase it at Amazon®. (see below)

Interesting note for us Okies: The film is the brainchild of Neil Berkeley from Moore, Oklahoma and Oklahoma City University.

Oh... the title of this post, "Halo Amok?" That's the title of Wayne's amazing exhibit open now through October 6, 2012 at the OKCMOA.

Quotable...Mark Twain

“Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”

— Mark Twain

Mark Twain

Was I At Woodstock

1969: A man on the moon, the amazing Mets, Nixon in the White House, Woodstock, and the year I graduated from Will Rogers High in Tulsa, Oklahoma.(Not to say my graduation was of historical significance; just establishing time and place.)

A few years ago marketers were leveraging the 40th anniversary of 1969 with special edition books, album reissues, and another movie: “Taking Woodstock: A Generation Began in His Backyard.”

Apparently those who didn’t come of age in this era have grown weary of hearing about it all; especially Woodstock.

I was not at Woodstock: the event, but was immersed in the culture of it all, in a pseudo-hippie sort of way. That is to say, I did have all that was de rigueur of the persona: tattered jeans, with their own story if I might add (made that way by hard wear, not the fictional, faux-worn jeans stacked on department store shelves these days), the beads and leather bands, even the Volkswagen Bus. However, fear and good old-fashioned Southern Baptist guilt kept me safely removed from the drugs and free love (to a large degree).

One credo of the day was, “Don’t trust anyone over 40!” Here I am at 62 and my unspoken credo is now, “Don’t trust anyone under 40!” 

A word to those under 40: can you allow us geezers just a few more months of nostalgia? After all, if “they” are to be believed, Woodstock and all was my generation's “defining moment.”

I like to sail. One of the oldest and most trusted navigational methods is called dead reckoning. This is where you take what is called a fix on a known, determined location. Then using a watch and compass you can estimate where you are at any time by advancing that position.

It works great if you were correct about your original fix (or defining moment), and if you’ve reckoned your time, direction, and speed correctly.

No doubt those of us at a certain age remember those days better than they were. You will probably do the same with your wonder years. And, if I’m not misunderstanding the wisdom of Ecclesiastes, there is a danger is this exercise:

Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?” For it is not wise to ask such questions. Ecclesiastes 7:10 NIV.

So in an attempt to avoid that pitfall, but wanting to define my defining moment, here’s what the summer of ’69 did for me. I did learn to question authority (a key component of the culture), and in doing so, I worked out my own faith and worldview.

Enough reminiscing for now, because in the sage advice of the namesake of my alma mater:

"Don’t let yesterday use up too much of today." – Will Rogers