As I write this post we are in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.  Myrtle Beach, not Asheville, North Carolina which is where we’re supposed to be, where it’s about 36 degrees and where the rain has been falling in torrential buckets for the better part of the day.  We spent over two hours this morning in a nearby coffee house nursing cups of hot steamy goodness while watching the downpour.  Now back in our hotel room, we are basically here in Myrtle Beach to wait out the storm.

I can’t be 60-years-old.  I simply cannot be 60.  Six-oh-no!  When did it happen?  How the hell did it happen?  I remember my mother at 60.  Sixty was my mother, not me.  Sixty sounds so old. But, the day has arrived. No matter how I fought it. It arrived. Today.  My birthday.  Can I just skip this day?

I caught the gist of the phrase based on what I was hearing on the news, but I have to admit I still went to everyone’s back-up source and Googled the term.

To tour or not to tour?  It’s the question we find ourselves asking more and more often as we travel.  Maybe it’s because we have officially retired and are a bit more selective as to how we spend our money, or maybe it’s because we’ve seen a few too many museums and castles.  Whatever the reason, we are more discriminating these days.

Making our way back across Spain – after walking the Camino and visiting Porto – there was only one stop I really wanted to make. And, basically it was for only one reason; to visit La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.

“The length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder.”  Alfred Hitchcock

With conveniences such as Redbox, Netflix and microwave popcorn, it’s kind of hard to justify paying $20 for two people to see a movie in the theater.  Don’t you think?  But every now and then a movie will be released that just calls me to the theater.

With commands such as left forward, right back, forward two and HOLD ON! The adrenaline rush of white water rafting on the Rogue River makes for an awe-inspiring (and ridiculously fun) afternoon on the water.

When we travel, and when we walk in the paths of those who came before us, I have a tendency to fixate on a singular person of interest.  I want more than the surface story, I want the details, the behind the scenes story. I’ll read everything I can find on the person, i.e. Johnny Cash, until I exhaust the resources.  And, if I’m lucky enough to find videos on YouTube, I’ll watch as many as I possibly can.

Around here, we use the month of February to ready ourselves – both personally and professionally – for our upcoming high tourist season.  Once we get rolling in the spring it becomes time-challenging to book appointments and such.  That’s not to say it can’t be done, it’s just much easier to get it out of the way, now, while we’re still moving slowly.  Included in this effort was my recent visit to my doctor for an annual exam.

I wasn’t sure what to title this post:  Southern Hospitality is Alive and Well?  The 25-cent Martini? The 3-Martini Lunch?  Happy Birthday to Me?!  So, fueled by a 3-Martini lunch I thought I’d just start writing and see where it takes me.