Lake Okanagan British Columbia

I sat on a bench in Savannah’s Ellis Square, rubbing my forehead with my hand (as I often do when I’m nervous or stressed), as I held the phone up to my ear with my other hand while my mom gave me one of her staple pep talks. “Well son, I don’t think you need to jump right into dating.” I chuckled, quickly snapping back to my mom, “Mom, I’m getting a divorce, and as far as I’m concerned, girls have cooties.” Here I was, a 27-year old…

Seal Beach Southern California

It was three years ago this month that both my best trip and best decision to date saw its final moments on a beach in Costa Rica. Seven months prior, in my “home” of the Carolinas, following several years of struggle that came to a head with a divorce, I sold and gave away everything that couldn’t fit into a backpack, quit my job to start my own business as a freelance writer, and set out to travel the world. Life had lost its luster. In honesty, I…

I pulled the heavily-laded SUV to the end of the driveway and paused momentarily, looking through the rearview mirror at the ranch-style house sitting behind me. I sighed, as my eyes welled up, and a flood of memories came to mind. In that house was (probably) where I was conceived, played my first game of Duck Hunt, received my first spanking, got picked up for my first date, beat my father for the first time in basketball, got my first concussion (from playing indoor basketball that resulted in…

“This is normal”, grinned my seatmate, as I hit the back of my head against the seat, let out a big sigh, and got up to exit the train. If this was normal, I’d hate to see what abnormal was. Tripping over the lip of a sidewalk or getting cupcake icing on the tip of my nose was normal, but not being stranded at the Austria/Italy border, watching in bewilderment as my train slowly pulled away to fix a technicality, leaving all of the passengers by the wayside….

While the rest of the passengers pause as they come out of the jetway at Atlanta International Airport to get their bearings straight, I only pause  to take a big sigh of relief and continue on to the right, like I’ve done so many times before. I take the escalator downstairs and hop on the train toward baggage claim, where I then meet my family at our usual pick-up location. Everything feels so familiar, from Turner Field to The Varsity to the Georgia Dome to Spaghetti Junction. I’m back…

Do you ever get the feeling that maybe the story you’re intent on telling, isn’t quite the story life plans on telling for you? To put it in travel terms, maybe you want to take the interstate, but the back roads call instead. Well if not, I’m going to tell you about not one, but two times I’ve set out on telling one story, but life had something else planned. I’ll begin with the first, much shorter story. I actually wrote this post in its entirety last week…

Two days in and this week has all the makings of home. Driving through neighborhoods, picking up this and that at Target, grabbing a Chai Tea Latte at local coffee shops, having drinks and meals with friends, and hitting balls at the local golf range. However, for every making of home, there are two things that don’t have the making of home: checking in and out of hotels, studying maps, carrying around a backpack, and driving around in a rental car. No this isn’t home yet.   “So…

“Why don’t you just walk home?”. Famous last words and the words of my friends as we parted ways in Brooklyn at 2:45 a.m. “You’re right, it will probably be quicker”. As soon as I muttered those words, I knew it couldn’t be the case, but who am I kidding; I needed the walk. This is often where my best thinking takes place: on late-night walks, although you could make a strong argument for this one as an early morning walk. Nonetheless, I knew that walking would be…