The basic premise of my life before, and especially since, retirement has been that if I could not find a way to have a meaningful life or a meaningful relationship, that the thing to do is to travel. Absolutely everybody, when asked what they would do when they retire, says that they will travel. When asked what else they would do, there is some hemming and hawing, and then a reference to travel again.
(Absolutely no one at all ever mentions watching television as something they plan to do in retirement though it is perfectly foreseeable that they will and they know it. My plan to protect myself from watching too much television by cheaping out and get only basic cable has worked. There truly is not much on basic cable. There doesn't seem to be anything any better on the blocked channels either. Baruch Hashem!)
So, being of a perennially literal turn of mind, I have been traveling and then hemming and hawing, then traveling some more. This year is no different. I am going to Death Valley for the wildflowers in March, April in Paris, May visiting my father's hometown of Jelgava in Latvia, then leaving in the Pachyderm for BC and Alaska. I leave in July for an eclipse in China. After the eclipse I mean to take a side trip to Tibet on the famous pressurized train.
I am not sure what the point of all this running around might be except that I have nothing better to do, everybody (by which I mean women) admires me for doing it, and I have talked myself into doing it. I enjoy it too.
But is it really a life?