Diversity Rules Magazine

11 Diversity Rules Magazine March 2015 Lee Lynch wrote the classic novels e Swashbuckler and Toothpick House. She lives in rural Florida with her wife and their furry ruffians. We are not traveling this year. Defi- nitely, positively, no ifs ands or buts. No one can make me. For the last eight years we've flown or driven across some or all of the United States two to six times a year. And moved three times. And endured three major surgeries between us. We're tired and we're taking an eighteen month break. It didn't help that the dentist and the veterinarians ate all our travel money. It seems as if, for those years, we were continuously either packing or unpack- ing. Or both at the same time. My sweet- heart enjoys making reservations, plot- ting routes, organizing both the luggage and me. I love the excursions she comes up with: long, narrow roads, high-end thrift stores, new birding sites. But enough is enough. Even she cried uncle this year. We were in such a quandary. How could we bear not to see our friends? So many of them go to the Golden Crown Literary Conference—and it's in New Orleans this year! Also in NOLA is the Saints and Sinners Literary Confer- ence which we haven't been able to attend for a few years due to creeping exhaustion. en there is Wom- an's Week in Provincetown. We won't get to see our birth families this year either. Will they ever be able to travel here? We dearly want to show off our little bit of Oregon. When you grow up on the East Coast, the Pacific Northwest may as well be a foreign country and anyone who moves here seems to have dropped off the edge of earth. I am rubbing my hands with glee, though, because we're withholding our funds from the dreaded airlines. Oh, the agony of flying these days. If not for friends, families and readers, so far away, I'd never get on a plane again. As if the inhumane overcrowd- ing in the name of profits were not enough, on our last flight east we were stuffed into newly designed seats. I didn't think the travel industry could make the darned things any more narrow, but they've achieved maxi- mum narrowness and minimum cushioning. Subway seats are more comfortable. Staying home will make life easier for my sweetheart, of course. I might finally stop losing my glasses, keys, cash, bookmarks, favor- ite pens, pills, to do lists and—the dog! Oh, no, did I leave the dog out- side? e stress of travel (or anything else) causes my misplacement malady. Giving up travel for a good long while may help me stop forget- ting appointments, and chores, and where I parked the car and—the dog! Oh, no, does the dog need to go out? She's sixteen and—whoops. Other symptoms of my too-much-travel syndrome in- clude tripping and/or knocking over one out of every several items in my path. Dropping small, large and medium items and everything in between. Making plans and forgetting them. Listening to someone and tuning back in after I realize I've tuned out. Doing everything too fast, as if being pursued by the monster under my bed. Trying to remember if the cat is still out on the fenced but roofless catio, exposed to the eagles. Doing hand-to-hand combat with the book I'm work- ing on to make it reveal itself. e house is blanketed with index cards which act like an external hard drive for my memory. But can I find them when I need them? Why do I expect to remem- ber that I've written down something I was likely to forget? I'm really looking forward to the peace of sta- Amazon Trail - Con't on page 12 The Amazon Trail Staying Home By Lee Lynch (c) Can Stock Photo Inc. / grsphoto

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