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I'm sweltering on a boat in a cove in Honolulu, HI. My brother’s boat is moored at a small marina that is full of these beautiful yachts, catamarans, trimarans, and a variety of others, and I’m goal setting.
All my life, I’ve loved the ocean. I should have been born a mermaid. Several of my novels are set on or near the water, and there is always a character who longs for the waves. That’s probably because that is how I live my life, even though I’m land-locked in sweet little New Mexico. Hey, retirement is just around the corner. I can go wherever I want once that kicks in. Iz just came on the radio, and I’m reminded of college, and a time when I was convinced that my life direction led me to yacht living. Little did I know that life had other plans. For a time. Maybe I am still heading in that direction, but I took a deserted path first. When Frost wrote about the two roads, I think he meant that either could be good, but it is what we make of it. At any rate, I feel inspired again, and I have plans, people. I’ll never be made of money, but I don’t intend to let that stop me. Trust me when I say that most of the guys around here aren’t made of money, either, but they live a life they don’t regret. They have the sun, the pre-dawn mist, the parrot fish chewing on the keel, and within walking distance is a little watering hole. Who can ask for more? I understand Margaritaville now. My favorite spot on this boat is the net that hangs between the hull and the third pontoon. I feel a little like I’m on a hammock, but more, I feel suspended in reality in a space where I am cool enough, peaceful enough, and if I’m lucky, I can watch the Naval Base send their jets out. Today, it was 6. Yesterday, 4. Both days, a C-130. I feel fortunate, calm, at peace, and happy. It’s time to write again. Mahalo, folks.
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February 2019
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