Vacation
It has been a long fourteen months since I have had a serious vacation. You know the kind I mean - the one where you don’t do much of anything except look at the sky, lay on the sand and contemplate the meaning of life. The kind of vacation where you read every book that’s been stacked by the side of your bed for the past six months. The kind of vacation where you lose all sense of time and place.
Beginning Wednesday, I am taking that kind of vacation. A friend of mine has invited me to spend a week at his place in Cancun. My only expense will be the airfare from San Diego and back. He has promised to feed me, let me raid his liquor cabinet (no worries - I’ve given up drinking, but the thought is nice), and has already arranged for me to have dinner one night in the company of a beautiful and highly intelligent woman. My minds reels thinking of the possibilities.
If you read between the lines, you can guess that I will be in communicado until Thursday, February 19 at the earliest. I’m turning off my phone, shutting down my computer, and hanging up my weight lifting gloves. For seven days, I am giving myself over to hedonism. If you never hear from me again, you’ll at least know the reason why.
Until that time, "Ciao, baby!"
