Mission

“These are the voyages of the traveler Steven. Its five-year mission: to explore the strange world, to seek out life and civilizations, to boldly go where few men have gone before.”

When I set out to see the world, my goal was to check off a bunch of boxes. I set some goals, got a full-time job, added some more goals, learned that taking 50 vacation days a year was not considered acceptable, figured out how to incorporate all of the goals I set, and had at it. My goal was never to explore new cultures, yet that is what these voyages have become. I have started to understand foreign cultures, but I have learned one fundamental truth. Human beings are, for the most part, the same.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Family (Or: Why Is This Night Different From All Other Nights?)

4/14/14 (Passover)
Miami, Florida

I like talk about the difference between values and opinions, since that, along with respect, is one of the most important aspects of a relationship, any relationship.  An important value to me is family, and this night that is so very different from all other nights, I will start my entry on that note.  This night is different to me because I am at an airport hotel, quite literally ready to take on the world.  This trip will be the most important trip I take until I say Canada Complete, since it will be the trip whose success determines whether or not I remove one of my tertiary goals from my 30 Goals.  Of the 17 goals that give my blog its name, one of them is to visit every North American WHS.  Visiting every U.S. and Canadian WHS are primary goals, and every NA Country is a high secondary goal.  The other countries I need to visit in North America will almost necessarily include visiting their WHS.  Costa Rica might be a little complicated, but it is practically impossible to miss the other two WHS in North America when visiting those countries, except for Mexico.  I have never formally made the 3 what I call High importance goals would be part of my 30 Goals.  They are included in the 17, but they are not required.  If the next 6 days are successful, and the success will entirely and absolutely depend on hitting all the WHS in CA-4, it will just leave the remaining WHS in Mexico standing in the way of saying NA Complete.  A few trips to Mexico to pick up those remaining WHS would fit into my travel budget, but it would be very difficult and take a hit on my cigar budget.  It would completely reshape my travel plans over the next few years, and the only way I would do it would be for the goal of NA Complete.  If I fail with CA-4 Complete, then there is no point to trying it.  That is why this coming trip is so important.

I have gotten off-topic.  Family is something I value very highly.  I often say that I view very poorly compassion for strangers and very highly compassion for people we love.  Why is family so important to me?  Because it’s family.  That means that family is a primary value.  There are some (4) members of family whom I love, others whom I don’t.  To love is to value.  I will not say that I love someone simply because they are family.  They also have to provide value to my life.  That said, they are still family, and they matter to me for that very reason.  I am not one of those people who says how much their third cousin the first time they meet them.  Love is earned, not a result of blood.  That said, they are still family and important to me for that very reason.  It was for that very reason that I enjoyed spending the day at my grandmother’s house today, sitting around with her husband, politely answering his questions.  It was the Seder that I most enjoyed since that truly represented family coming together, but I first must recall the nine or so hours from the time I woke up until the time my aunt and uncle arrived at my grandmother’s house.

I did not set an alarm, and I woke up a little before 10AM.  Not seeing a reason to stay in bed, I got up and began my day.  There was a cup of black coffee waiting on the kitchen table, and I knew that David had gone out to get it for me, not out of obligation, but because I was his guest, and he wants his guests to enjoy their time at his house.  As I was drinking it, he joined me.  In the mood for more than just eggs and wanting to get out of the house, I asked him if he knew where the nearest Denny’s was.  He did not.  My phone did.  I wasted no time to get on my way, knowing that a trip to Florida would not be complete without a trip to Denny’s.  The theme of this entry is family, so it is only fitting to describe what was missing from the meal, and I do not mean the pancakes and hash browns.  I, of course, mean my father.  The whole meal was off.  I got a Build Your Own slam with double eggs, double bacon, and two types of sausage, along with coffee, and a sugar-free dessert.  It was all really good, but something was off.  Maybe it was partly that I couldn’t have pancakes and hash browns, but, as I was driving away, I realized that it was because my father was not there with me, that we were not enjoying our breakfast together, as we have done dozens, maybe a hundred, times, glad to escape my grandmother’s idiosyncrasies for the morning before we agree that all that mattered was that my mother was happy that we were spending time with her mother.  What were a few carbs next to that?  The breakfast was taking a toll on me, and I really needed to get home, but I wanted to stop at drug store first to get some aloe, allergy medicine, and Atkin’s bars.  I easily found all three and was on my way.  The bathroom was now approaching emergency level.  I went to the back gate, but my card would not work, and they sent me around to the front gate, a process that added 7 minutes.  It turned out that it wasn’t activated, and David had actually mentioned something about that before I left for breakfast.

Just as I pulled into the driveway, I saw him on his golf cart.  He told me to hop on so that we could go get the card activated.  I wasn’t sure I could wait that long, but I did as I was told.  It only took 15 minutes round trip.  My grandmother was up, and I asked her if I could do a load of laundry, knowing that she would much rather do the load herself.  I was right.  I grabbed my laptop and the cigars I had bought on Saturday and headed out there.  I lit up my favorite cigar from the batch, a Frank Herrera Godfather, the house blend of the old owner, and got some very productive work done.  That reminds me.  I need to set my Out of Office message, so I will pause.


Okay, on my way back, I timed the drive, just for the heck of it.  Door to door, it was 4 minutes from the cigar store to my grandmother’s house.  I cannot get from my office to my regular cigar store in that time, and I only need to cross one street to get there.  I got back to work, also making my final preparations for the trip, packing and printing, as well.  My uncle was supposed to call when he was on his way, and, that point, I was going to do my final packing and sew the rip in my suit pants.  He forgot to call and showed up a little before 7PM while I was still packing.  I had done all the work I needed to do, and I was far more confident in my preparations.  We were very glad to see each other, it probably being over 2 years.  It is also the first time that we interacted as adults rather than me as just his nephew, and I discovered a marked difference in the way I viewed him.  Here was the sharp, business man my grandfather always mentions to me.  When you’re clinging to your parents and brother, having fun with his kids being the big cousin, you don’t notice that kind of stuff.  Another reason why this night was different from all other nights.  He also had a very sharp sense of humor, and we were laughing at each other’s jokes, joke that no one else got.  Another weird thing.  I had always thought of him as my grandmother’s son, but somehow it never occurred to me that my grandmother is also his mother.  I always think of her as my mother’s mother.  Obviously, I knew it intellectually, but that is not how I meant it.  After kibitzing in the living room for a bit, talking about home prices, it was time for the Seder.  As I have said, family is family.  You forgive them for things you would forgive no one else.  You make exceptions for things you would accept from anyone else.  You either reject them as family or accept them for who they are.  My grandmother practically tried to force feed gefilte fish on me, even though it was not on my diet.  She could not understand how 6 grams of carbs could make a difference.  My aunt and uncle, with a diabetic son, of course understand in great detail exactly what each carb meant.

Seders with my grandmother are always and adventure, and my reader should know that I did not find it at all surprising that my grandmother would try to force gefilte fish on me.  She did it out of love.  We did not have matching Seder books, so my grandfather would start reading, and my aunt and uncle with non-matching books had to try to find the page.  We picked and chose which random items to include and which ones to exclude.  This was not to be my aunt’s 6-hour Seder.  This is the world’s faster Seder.  For some reason, it was important to include the blessing over the lighting over the candles.  We did not light candles.  My grandmother poured us white wine, since it was the only bottle she had open.  I objected that it was supposed to represent the blood of our ancestors.  My uncle and I agreed that it would represent the white blood cells of our ancestors.  When it came time for the four questions, I started reading in English but was told to do the Hebrew version, which I did.  My aunt praised my reading skills.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was reading the transliteration, though I guess I just did.  After the four questions, David said, “And now let’s eat.”  My grandmother objected that she hadn’t had a chance to read a section.  She read whatever was on the next page.  My uncle then said, “And now let’s eat.”  I then objected that we hadn’t done the Ten Plagues.  I was younger, we would recreate each of the Ten Plagues, dabbing a drop of wine on our plate with each plague.  It was always my favorite part of the Seder.  I turned to the page with the Ten Plagues, quickly read their names in English and said, “And now let’s eat.”  We ate.  The brisket was good, and that was the bulk of my meal, along with a few carrots.  I also had the smallest bite of matzo, just so I could say I had some.  During dinner, we all traded war stories about our travels.  How could my past two years compare with their lifetimes of travels?  I’m sure that when I’m leading the Seder many years from now, I will be the clear winner, but, tonight, a night different from all other nights, I stayed quiet.

After dinner, we went back to the living room, talked some more, and then came back for dessert.  My uncle apologized for the plate of carbs in front of me, but I had my coconut Atkin’s bar, which I called my macaroon.  We talked some more, and it was getting late.  Each minute we talked, no matter how enjoyable it was, meant one less minute of sleep.  I asked my grandmother for the needle and thread and stitched up my pants.  Not wanting to just announce my departure, I realized that if I came back to the table in my suit, it would wrap things up.  I was right.  We said our goodbyes, I thanked my host, and we were on our way.  I lit up a Padron and stopped for gas before getting on the highway.  The traffic was bad, and I didn’t get to the hotel until 11:30 AM, far behind schedule.  I won’t even be getting 3 hours of sleep tonight, but tomorrow is one of the easier days.  I can have my guide do all of the driving and sleep in the car.  The room was non-smoking, despite the fact that I had requested a smoking room, so I knocked the non-smoking sign behind the desk, covered the smoke detector with a towel, it up my Avo, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can get a little sleep.

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