Thursday, February 16, 2012

Hoo-Hah!

Crowded around the kitchen table, four of us are busy making plans. Sunshine floods through the sliding glass doors and the window above the sink. Jesus smiles upon us from the magnets on the refrigerator. Pope Benedict XVI nods in approval after I slap the top of his head. Chocolate covered strawberries consummate wishes being turning into plans.

Sitting back for a moment, I appreciate the reality of what's happening.

In a general sense, each of us have expatriated, having left what was ... now living in a foreign culture because it's not the one we brought up to follow.

We're creating our own.

We've left marriages or had them leave us ... live on a clump of sand on top of the ocean by choice ... four laptops are open in front of us as we put the pieces together ... bound by the common conviction that there is no going back.

"No matter where you go," explained Buckaroo Banzai, "there you are."

Here we are.

Expatriates.

Just like Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein and the other members of The Lost Generation living in Paris in the 1920's or the songs that Jimmy Buffett sings The Weather is here, I wish you were beautiful ...

"There's no place like home when you're this far away. I don't care what they say."

And we don't.

Our parents care. Ex-wives and Ex-husbands care. People who want us to do what we used to do care. Our children care because we're not acting like adults anymore. Politicians are suspicious. Clergy are hurling prayers our way because it scares the hell out of them. Our bankers definitely care! Our creditors are considering their options.

Ever since I read Hemingway those years ago, I've wanted to expatriate and leave the United States for ... an island. Jimmy Buffett had much to do with the location choice ... as did Bob Marley.

Visiting home once when I was living in Louisville, we rode out to Tybee and I knew with as much conviction as did St. Paul when God knocked him off that ass and told him what to do ... that this was home. I didn't live here but I knew I would one day. And I do.

So does Dedra ... and Sean and Wyn and their kids ... Sarah's already got one foot here ... then there's the Carnival of Friends ... Johnny O and Judy O expatriated here years ago ... Roma did too ... O John and O Judy have ... Cheryl and Jodee ran out of gas just as they rolled onto the island ... Samuel Adams stumbled in and brought music ... I found Rocky on my doorstep one night.

Everybody thinks we're nuts and are quick to say so. They're very judgmental about it too.

So we throw Judgement Parties at Fannies-On-the-Beach and Marlin Monro's. We dance at Doc's, brunch at Bar Church, burn some out back at Bennie's and skinny dip off the dock and in the pool at the top secret locations. The only rule in attending is there is no judgement.

So, none of us are quite certain of where we're going but ... here we are.

Hoo-Hah!

In some ways it's as scary as it possibly gets. How do you keep paying for this? How come we haven't been caught? We acknowledge that we've broken the Ten Commandments but God hasn't hurled bolts of lightening at us yet.

So we're going to stay the course.

Between navigational beacons that we can't see.

And that's an excuse for a party!

Hoo-Hah!