Secret O' Life

I'm a James Taylor fan. I'm married to a Parrothead. [Note: A "Parrothead" is what Jimmy Buffett fans call themselves.] I think that comparison says a lot about who we are and what motivates us.

While searching for inspiration today (I needed *one* sentence to kickstart a whole newsletter, and man, I hate that kind of writer's block), I found a five-year-old trip report of mine. After three chapters, I started using a quote to give the readers a clue about what was going on the rest of the day. Who knew John Donne could ever be applied to a Walt Disney World trip? Well. Apparently *I* knew.

Anyway, one of the days started with the lyric, "The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time," from James Taylor's song, "Secret O' Life." I love that song. I love what that song *says*. It makes me cry. In a good way.

I have spent my life trying to figure out how to simply enjoy the passage of time. Just when I think I've got the knack of it, something happens to throw me offtrack. Like the air conditioner breaking -- oh, it is finally fixed. Thank heaven. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday were a blur of hot, sweaty misery. I couldn't *think*, it was so hot. I kept telling myself that I was going to go to a motel and check in just so I could sleep. I was talking to my sister on the phone, and I compared myself to a super computer from the mid-80's. Like a Cray, I couldn't think when I was hot.

[Most people don't know what Crays were. My sister did. A Cray did the animation in the Dire Straits' hit "Money for Nothing." When was that -- 1985? 1986? Pixar is built on the fossilized bones of old Dire Straits videos, eh?]

Now the AC works, and I can once again move through the air in my house without sludging to a complete, brainless stop, wondering where I was going or what I was doing. I have deadlines. I have things to do. I have stuff to write, and I *still* have this tremendous, undeniable, incredible urge to create. And my scrap space is still a mess, so I have no *room* in which to create. It's an unending cycle.

I'm going on vacation in mid-August. Before then, I'll be traveling to Wisconsin for Club Scrap Retreat. I can't wait for Retreat. I haven't been since 2003. They pamper people at Club Scrap Retreat, and I need some pampering.

Maybe I can slow down at Retreat and "try not to try too hard -- it's just a lovely ride."

And if that doesn't work, I'll put on a Hawaiian shirt and sing "Grapefruit, Juicy Fruit," which is the only Jimmy Buffett song that I know from beginning to end. Mostly because it's short.