Saturday, January 19, 2013
Change of Venue
"I'm requesting a change of venue," my wife declared. "We are all guilty of a major crime -- mediocrity." The first thoughts that popped into my head were beaches in January, year-round tennis, and close friends and family nearby. If this was my prison, I wasn't quite ready for a break-out. It was too late. My wife was already tying our sheets together and throwing them out the bedroom window. I realized we were all aboard the Titanic and an iceberg just ripped the dining room table in half. She knew the politically correct method of departure... wife and children first, and if there is enough room for the captain of the ship, he can follow.
The 16' moving truck from Budget was just large enough to cart away our most cherished belongings, that is if you don't count the two tons of relics that didn't quite fit. They were deposited at the dump by two men I nominated for sainthood. Doesn't St. Anthony and St. Mark sound angelic?
Last January I rode the ocean waves on my boogie board. One year later, I find myself skimming over the frozen ice on Lake Iowa using sleds that look just like boogie boards. I'm playing tennis indoors and enjoying my wife's family, most who live just a snowball's throw away. The dining room table has been put back together in our new home and we are adjusting well to our change of venue. I no longer need to worry about my wife tying the sheets together for another escape, especially while the thermometer has a big minus sign in front of the number on the display screen. Besides, none of us can be accused of mediocrity. We have found our passions on the snow-covered field of dreams.