Lessons from the Road, Part Two

Not all whales are elusive

If you plug 2680 OK-66, Catoosa, OK in to your GPS, you will receive directions to the Blue Whale of Catoosa.

Pretty self-explanatory, right?

Built in 1970, the whale was an anniversary gift from local Hugh Davis, as a surprise for his wife, who collected whale figurines.

This one would not fit on a shelf, and I sure as hell wouldn't want to dust it, but damn, is it cool!

The whale sits on what was once a spring-fed swimming hole, and its fins provided slides into the water. You can no longer swim here (I wouldn't want to; the water is murky at best) but it is a unique spot along Old Route 66 to stop, stretch your legs, visit the loo in a weird, round restroom, and take in a bit of old Americana. You can climb up on the whale's tail and enjoy the view, or have a picnic on the tables in the park area surrounding the whale.

I'll be honest: I knew it was going to be weird, and I sensed it would be just this side of crazy, but I sure didn't think we would enjoy this stop as much as we did. As we pulled up, we couldn't stop laughing; what a site from the side of the road! The directions were easy to follow, and honestly, if you missed it, you just weren't looking very hard.

Taking a quick stop on a long driving day, to rest our legs, laugh, and eventually stop at Sonic, was the best way to christen our Epic Road Trip. It was at this first stop that I realized Alex would do just about anything, as long as the company was good. He's really grown in to quite an awesome human.

Me and

So there we were, the aunt and her favorite boy, having found our whale. At this point in life, both Alex and I are heading off on separate, yet similar, paths; he, to learn and grow and find his career. Me, to move on from a place I love but can't afford to a place I hope to love and can enjoy a more balanced life. The search is what brought us here; the search, ironically, brought us to an old swimming hole in the middle of an Oklahoma lake on a warm August afternoon. Our quest for self discovery brought us to a bit of 1970s kitsch, and brought us closer together as a result.

Life is, I suppose, a series of self-discoveries as we search for who we are meant to be. And, if you're really lucky, you get to do it alongside some pretty amazing people.

Call me Ishmael.

Next up: The importance of knowing where your friends are.

Lessons from the Road, Part One

I'm going to try something new here. I've never written a series before, but there is no way I could possibly write one post to cover the trip Alex and I took from Illinois to Arizona last week. Just no way. So I'm not gonna try. There are a dozen or so different life lessons we learned along the way, so I'm going to dole them out, one at a time, and try to be as entertaining as possible. And so, without further ado, I give you ...

Drink what the barkeep pours you.

On Night One of the Epic Road Trip, we found ourselves in St. Louis, MO. My sister Kathie, the mastermind behind the planning, had booked us a room at this darling boutique hotel, Moonrise, right in the entertainment district known as the Delmar Loop.

Alex and I intended to get checked in and immediately head out to see the sights. After a long and stormy drive, though, we arrived pretty exhausted (yet full of pasta; thank you, Noodles!) So instead of heading out, we headed up ... up to the rooftop bar, the Eclipse Lounge. From there, you could pretty much see everywhere. It was a lovely night, not too cool, and the rain had stopped.

We walked to the bar and the bartender asked what we'd like. Alex ordered a beer (Fat Tire? Memory fail.) and I was unsure. So I said, "I'm not sure, what do you feel like making?" And without missing  beat, the bartender grabbed a bottle, poured a shot, and handed it to me. I asked what it was, and he showed me the label - Four Roses Bourbon. Well, I've never met a bourbon I didn't like, so after a bit of snappy patter, I drank the shot.

Much to the surprise of our bartenders.

Apparently, the indecisive patron is more common than one would think, and they explained that roughly nine out of 10 people don't drink the shot. They wouldn't allow me to pay for it, and we had a few (okay, more than a few) laughs about it as I enjoyed my Seven-Up chaser.

The thing is, sometimes life serves us unexpected things. Sometimes they are wonderful opportunities. Sometimes they suck. But the unexpected will often take you somewhere you'd not planned for, and that, gentle reader, can deliver you straight to something truly amazing and wonderful ... and why not? many of my best memories were made not according to plan, but rather while following what life (or my bartender) served up in a particular moment. Sometimes it's a matter of going where you're led.

But back to that night in the bar ... Alex and I were full of anticipation, ready for the longest leg of our journey the next day (St. Lou to Albuquerque). We only stayed up there on the rooftop for an hour or so, but man, what a night it was. From our spot above the city, anything was possible. Plans were solidified and soon it was time to get back in the elevator and head down to our room. But while we were up on that roof, I discovered a new favorite bourbon, and felt wanderlust take hold.

Coming up next: Not all whales are the elusive Great White.

On heavy things and putting them down

Sometimes, you don't realize you've been in a downward spiral. You may seem pretty content, and feel like you're making progress. But if you're carrying anger and resentment, it's entirely possible that you aren't being honest with yourself, and that it's time to set down the baggage.

Really, guys. That stuff gets heavy.

Truth is, I've spent a lot of time over the past year-ish just feeling angry. Not for a particular reason, but mostly because of my perceived different-ness in my world. I was treated differently. Loved differently. Acknowledged differently, if at all. An octagonal peg in a round hole, I floundered.

A lot of it (surprise, surprise) boiled down to one thing. Money. Man, that shit really is the root of all evil. But it happened so gently, I didn't realize that I was becoming a bitter, angry person because I had painted myself into a corner. See, every time someone talked about doing just about anything, I knew my budget wouldn't allow it. I had not done my due diligence, and while I am living in a place I love, I can honestly say that because I wasn't more careful, I've been living beyond my means.

I'm not proud of it, but there you have it. And while I scrimped and saved and robbed Peter to pay ComEd, I got pissed off at everyone who could make ends meet. I'm super rational like that.

I wasn't outwardly rage-y, but I felt like the universe had dealt me a shitty hand.

And then, the fork in the road. With my lease running out soon, do I sign a new lease, or do I move on? Truth be told, I'd be a fool to stick with the familiar once I realized it wasn't good for me. And I'm not a fool. Most of the time.

So now, I've chosen my next home with complete faith that I'm doing the right thing. Why do I feel that way? That has something to do with a lightness I feel inside. See, shortly after the lightbulb went on and I realized I wasn't locked in to my little downtown studio, it was like someone lifted a weight from my shoulders.

Not my unit, but one of the buildings in my complex. I have a patio!

Like I said, that baggage gets pretty heavy.

Sometimes you have to push the veil away and really see things as they are. I've spent a lot of my life unhappy, but having the unhappiness sink in with such slow progress, I didn't even know how unhappy I was until some sudden change - divorce! breakup! injury! running out of nutella! - forced me to make changes. And in the changes ... oh, man, that's where you find yourself.

You might discover your resilience, or flexibility. Or you might find your own intuition. You'll probably figure out how capable you are once you set your sights on your next step, no matter how hard it is to take. And all of that is okay.

And so, here I am, arriving at the fork in the road, knowing which way I'm turning, and trying to get all my ducks in a row. There is much to be done, and like with all worthwhile endeavors, I don't head off alone. I am intensely grateful to those who have awesomely supported me through the process.

Now, who wants to help me pack?