Early is the watchword on a travel day. Up at 5:30, no chance of falling asleep again. Mind is racing, there is so much to do, strip the bed, do a final load of laundry, shit, shower, shave, vacuum, dust, do the dishes, study the sides for the audition, finish packing. Oh man I thought I was prepared and I am but I keep finding more loose ends to tie up. I’m nervous. Strange that I feel this way. The emotions running through me are not unlike those I was feeling the night before I left home to join the Marines. It was a heady mix of fear, anticipation, excitement, and…well I guess you could call it triumph. Joining the Corps was my call, my decision. I asked no advice of my parents, nor did I seek their blessing. I just decided to do it and informed them of my decision. That was the moment that I took charge of my life. I was 17 years old.

40 years later here I am back behind the wheel of my life, my foot on the gas, pedal to the metal, looking down the road, bound and determined NOT to ask directions. I’m just gonna take what comes.

The audition was surreal, I just blundered through, present in body only, my mind at 10,000 meters looking down from on high. Got to work, actually got a couple of things done. And before I knew it it was time to go. In the car, on the road, park, up to the eighth floor. I was in my traveling clothes without realizing I had undressed.

Nancy arrived on time, we’ve been taking each other to the airport for years. We went to The Pantry had a bite and gossiped a bit, and thought I saw her lips move but could not hear her over the circus calliope bubbling in my head

“La Ta Diddy Diddy La Ta TaDa”

And we were in her Subaru heading south, and now I’m here. The TSA didn’t even ask me to take off my shoes. A good sign!