Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Career Break

Daytona Beach is 23 miles long and about 50 feet wide at low tide. As far as beaches go it doesn't come close to being one of the largest. That's Cox's Bazaar in Bangledesh of all places! It's never struck me that famine plagued Bangledesh would be a breach destination. Nonetheless, Cox's Bazaar is now on my list of things to do before I die.

Sitting here this morning with a post coffee drink, Sarah and the girls are all asleep, Jeremy's back in school, Marie's educating the next generation, Kristen's home from work, Sam is studying and Chelsea is probably walking her bunny in Atlanta. Early morning time alone is something that I've always loved and appreciated.

I'm watching loving, but sleepy, fathers carry babies around the pool while their wives presumably sleep. Old men in tank tops smoke cigarettes on balconies staring a flat and calm ocean. Women in Moo-moos are ... I don't know what they are ... outlandish! Kids who wouldn't go to bed are already up and screaming to the tops of their lungs as they cannon ball into the pool. I'm certain their parents ... and a great many other people ... want to kill th m.

"Leave your mind behind, Baby James" and I have ... I think. All of the things that have worried me are back home. We didn't pack them. There is a phone call that I have to make but other than that ... I plan on doing a whole lot of ... this.

A woman in a Moo-moo is now choaking her daughter who screamed Bloody murder as she hit the water, splashing her mother and their towels.

A crowd gathers cheering for the Mom.

I offer a toast to vacation.

Europeans do them far better than Americans. They're also called holiday, sabbatical, gap year, and ... my personal favorite ... career break.

"What are you doing these days," people ask me? When they do, Sarah and I exchange glances and laugh because there are two ways to answer.

On the one hand, we're doing nothing, living smack dab in the middle of a career break.

On the other hand, we're incredibly busy ... as busy as I've ever been! I'm writing more than ever, considering publishers, traveling more than ever, consulting (when I remember to), blending families, helping with Bar Church, practicing the guitar, watering flowers, planning more travel, re-tooling the house, pondering the future, forgetting the past, enjoying the Carnival of Friends and loving the hell out of Sarah (and I mean that in the most literal of ways).

The music blaring from the Tiki Bar beside the pool has woken the old man staying beside us. His white hair and beard match his white skin. He looks at me and smiles.

"Does it get any better than this?" he asks, whiping the sleep from his eyes. His smile is that of a little boy on Christmas morning.

I raise my post coffee drink to him.

"Nope," I smile. "It doesn't."