Thank you to everyone, Mom and Jenn primarily who put up with incredible amounts of drama ever since Dad died and who totally fished me out when I was sinking and who without; this retirement dream was just a dream, and may have never happened. You backed me up while I’m giving you double dam hard times about stuff. Thank you, thank you very much, much/much!
And the island people who are more than I could have dreamt wonderful; Walt F.J. Goodridge of Discover Saipan fame, and Malou, all of her hard work and respect, call when you have free time, Mister Yoo, you were always there when I needed and did an awesome job of keeping everything going, Harry, just crazy helpful and cheery (thanks for introducing me to the Senator), Ann who listened carefully just like the Senator and immediately acted accordingly, and Sandra who seems 3 times smarter than anyone around, but doesn’t rub it in your face, Atten (the coolest cat) and Junior and everybody’s cute kids. In order; that was my guide Walt to the island, my housekeeper, the hotel owner and his wife, clerk at my favorite market, my landlords agent, my new neighbors, everyone: very sweet and generous and caring and patient and there’s some kinds of calm awareness that I can’t put a finger on. Such a pleasure!
My windows and porch look out to the the jungle that slopes up to Mount Tapachao. I can hear the breeze through the jungle. Harry at my favorite market said something like “you live up there, as if it’s far away. Four minutes up the hill just on the other side of the mountain is far away if you’re on an island 12×5 miles. Up here people are more long term residences. My island street name is a word that is one of two indigenous sailing groups meaning “the other side” or “beyond”. Down in the main village I longed for that feeling of being in a place where people don’t look at you like you’ll flit away and never see them again. Just another face in a place that most of the faces keep shifting. So I was a shifter, staying in a hotel at first. My apartment up the hill/mountain, It’s more rural, with jungle in-between some houses, quiet, and a little less sauna feeling than down by the lagoon. More trade wind breezes so with only a degree or two less heat up here, the breeze makes you feel cooler.
The typhoon alley bachelor pad is taking shape. I bought a bag of Meow Mix since my neighbor from the island nation of Palau said that a local boonie cat is unnamed, has been hanging around a couple weeks and it’s ok if I give it some food. Kitty is savvy like animals are here. I hadn’t fed it at all, but when I came back from the store it came walking over meowing before I was even out of the car.
So it’s starting to get fairly domesticated around here. The neighborhood dogs quickly know who you are so they aren’t getting all territorial. I guess this will always be dreamy like living on a boat hearing the waves on the beach every night was. Or like hanging out with rich and famous people. Glad I quit drinking, since it has been the wildest ride possible.
Boat life was very non-traditional. So was sleeping in the little house out back by the barn and animals (yep: down by the river), or in the back of my drummers van, or on roof tops , or in my camper behind my girlfriends house who’s dad sold me the truck. I tell stories. They are mostly about me, because that’s where I have the most blind spots. Typically whatever is in front of me, ducking blind. So hold my hand and maybe you like to hold someone’s hand, lets not argue about it, that’s all. Shalom
