My wife says that I worry too much and that I sometimes have unreal expectations of coming events. She may be right. I am the kind of person who plans and expects to have a perfect Christmas, who plans trips that should be everyone’s dream vacation, who anticipates the special meals that I cook to be Michelin star quality. In short, I plot my own disappointment, at least according to some. I like to think of myself as an optimist.
Of course, there are fallacies in my thinking. The Buddhist in me says that I should live in the present, that the planning and preparation in itself should be a satisfactory activity because it is the present and that is truly all we have. I recognize that, but at the end of the day, as I print out itineraries and reservations, it is difficult to not project into the future with anticipation and excitement. Ultimately, I am not a very good Buddhist. Not only am I an optimist, I’m a control freak also. I make lists and copies. I fill a notebook. I like to think of myself as a wanderer, but picture me as a wanderer with a briefcase and extra underwear.
I mention all of this because I’m in the process of putting the final touches on our next trip. We’re going down the Mississippi to Memphis, then driving across Tennessee, South Carolina, and Northern Georgia. We’re headed to the same area where Hurricane Florence is expected to land tomorrow. Granted, our arrival in Charleston is three weeks later than that of Florence, but the expected ferocity of the storm suggests that our tour of the South may be less than ideal in certain areas.
I have a history of this kind of trip. In 1989, I was in Tian An Men Square on the afternoon that the student demonstrators were tear gassed, as were we. We escaped the subsequent slaughter via the railroad. We managed to make our way to the train station, past burning trucks and tire bonfires. (The station reminded me all too much of the scene in Gone With The Wind of the acres of wounded in the battle of Atlanta.) We escaped Beijing, only to be told by the American Ambassador four days later to make our way back to Beijing and the airport. Long story short, we returned safely to our families.
The point is that I have a track record of naively wandering into situations. Hence, my inclination to project and worry. Optimistically, I have to remind myself that Lydia and I have become reasonably expert at adjusting and adapting and doing so with confidence and satisfaction. How we behave in our travels is a reflection of how we behave in our marriage. Maybe that is why, ultimately, we have such great trips together.
So, for now, we wait to see what happens with Florence and then we make some decisions. That’s the future. For now, I think I’ll check the mailbox and then have some lunch.

The Road