So, just as an old friend can pick up with another after years have gone by, I offer this recap. When we last left our unsuspecting hero, he had baptized himself in the Atlantic Ocean at precisely 11:11:11 AM on 11/11/11. He had found a recording studio at WQII-AM in San Juan, still with no permanent residence or much else in the way of material things.
First, I owe credit and thanks to the gentleman who asked me to tell this story. He is a motivational speaker and feels that I may offer some measure of inspiration. You may be the judge on that point. His name is Eric Watts, Eric Ejw Watts on Facebook or @WordTalkPro via Twitter, also by searching Google, etc. Eric, thanks for the uplift!
Next, I owe answers to the recurring question: how did you have the guts to make such a bold move; to reboot your life? I'll be completely honest. I felt like I was acting out of fear and cowardice, not courage. One particular conversation with my son tipped the scales. I told no one of what I was contemplating...just abandoning USA life and hitting reset. I DID call my son and daughter. My son asked the burning question, to which I now set before you..."do you wanna wait until you're 75 to do something about it, and shuffle along in your walker at the beach to say 'hola, chicas, como estás?', or do you wanna go while you can still do something about it?" Point taken, sir. The coward got on the plane.)
Here is the Grand Truth that I had failed to realize: I wasn't running FROM something (my belief at the time), I was running TO something. I didn't even bother to look at a map to see where Puerto Rico was until I was at Miami International Airport, with no possible way to return. It was either continue on that voyage or be a homeless guy in the terminal. I got on the plane.
The question continued to arise beginning about three months into the experiment, "how did you have the "GUTS" (paraphrased for gentle readers) to just rebuild your life like that? I'd give ANYTHING to be able to do that!" Oh, really? It is indeed possible, maybe easier than you think, but in a 3 1/2 year look over the shoulder, that's easy to say. All I really needed was the support of my grown son and daughter and a kick in the pants.
So, saving lots of little anecdotes for future blogs, here's the deal. My life was never made for the consumption of creature comforts. I've ridden in a car maybe 20 times in the last 3 1/2 years; I've driven precisely 3 times - I walk a mile to my studio each day and a mile back to the apartment, which has no air conditioning. Anybody remember when, in the US, houses were BUILT to accommodate air flow and a nice breeze? The days of the attic fan and jalousie blinds and kind porches?
Here's my ultimate truth for this story - I was never meant to be defined nor built to be beholden to material things. Does someone have a bigger car, a bigger TV, a bigger house than me? It's quite likely. I'm of the firm belief than, upon my transition bed (i.e. "death" in popular terms), I'm not really going to care about those. I will, instead, embrace the great conversations, kisses, hugs, arguments, etc. that I was able to encounter on this wonderful planet. Again, Eric, thanks for yet ANOTHER "kick in the pants" to begin this story! I look forward to speaking with you all again, soon!