Fanks

I like how the British, at least some of them, replace Th's with F's. I think "Fanks" sounds nicer than "Thanks." Fanks is the informal version of thanks. Teeth sounds so much better as teef. I wonder if they called Margaret Thatcher, Madge Fatcher. It's cool; I like it. The Beatles had that Cockney-speak down perfectly. In my young life, nobody was cooler than the Beatles. They were exotic and down-to-earth at the same time. Nice combo, in my humble opinion. Fanks, Beatles.

It also brings to mind how some of the Spanish-speaking world speaks with a lisp. Barthelona, anyone? The urban legend about this Castilian lisp is that one of the Kings had a lisp and therefore everyone began to pronounce words in the same way. I believe that story has been discredited, but I'm still fond of the notion. A whole language taking shape because of one man's speech impediment. It's kind of romantic.

Even though America has become as homogenized as milk, we still hold on to our regional eccentricities in terms of language. New Englanders have their "ayuh," and "it's down the rud." Translation: Yes, it's down the road. Some New Englanders are "Wicked Cool." That's a Maine thing. New Yorkers have too many to name, but "fogeddaboudit" is a good example.

Out here in the Mid-West, soda is called pop. They don't shovel the driveway, they scoop it . . . and end many sentences with the very general and quite nice "you bet!"

Jerseyans go "down the shore." Other people just go to the beach.

Yes, people, every town in America now has a Home Depot and a Walmart. We buy all the same things at the same big box stores. Any strip mall in America could swap places with any other and it would be about the same. Dry cleaners, Chinese restaurant, Weight Watchers, Subway and maybe Triple AAA. I don't know, fill in your own strip mall. These things are everywhere.

I lament the loss of authenticity in America. Those places that can only be experienced in the flesh and in that place, although I do find some comfort in seeing familiar things in unfamiliar places--even if it is Target or CVS. However, as the world shrinks and America changes from the land of the free to the land of the cookie cutter, I like to note the differences that still remain. Food is still somewhat okay, if you get past all the chain restaurants. Still, the best restaurant we have found in Sioux City, Iowa, is Vietnamese, so go figure.

Ah, but beautifully, language endures. Art endures. Music endures. The human spirit endures. These things, by their very nature, will not be homogenized and smoothed out and made palatable to a bland diet. So I love to hear my mid-western neighbors call soda by its midwestern name: pop. They can call donuts rolls, if they like. I like it.

Oh, and fanks for reading. Cheers to you all.

Sojourner

Sometimes a trip is just a trip, no big deal. Sometimes, though, a trip is a journey. That's why traveling is such a good metaphor for life. I've always associated life with going on a journey. A journey has a beginning, a middle, and an end. So does life.

During difficult times I associate my emotional state with being on a journey. It's a good way to keep in mind that all things have the inevitable end and that nothing lasts forever . . . even bad times. I often talk about things that I am "going through." The key word there is "through". I understand that it will someday end and I will be okay. See? I'm an optimist.

My trip back east was a decision making time for me. I have been questioning everything and wondering which direction to go. Standing at the crossroads peering as far as I could down each road hoping for a glimpse of something shiny up ahead. Looking for signs to point the way. What do I want to do? What do I want to accomplish? What is important to me? How can I make my life be the way I want it to be? Why am I here? These are the questions that I have been asking myself and finding the answers elusive. There are no road signs to fulfillment. If it was that easy we would all be fulfilled now, wouldn't we?

So my trip back east was supposed to answer these questions, and honestly, it did answer one of them. The answer is, I don't know . . . and now is not the right time to force it. What became abundantly clear is that I am still grieving and reeling from my father's death and can't make a good decision at this time. Grieving is a process, and I'm not done. While my dad's passing brought many of these questions to mind, it also has made the answers cloudy with sadness and regret. One journey has to end before I can begin a new one.

Losing a beloved person is hard. The pain cannot be avoided and nothing makes it feel better. That's the truth. It's a pain that has to be felt and looked at and gone through. No way around it.

I'm still sitting at the crossroads, only now I'm going to wait for a while until I choose my path. I have a feeling it will be an obvious choice eventually. I went on a journey and ended up right back where I started. The best thing about traveling is coming home.

Hello!

Okay, sorry, one week turned into two. I will be posting blogs shortly ... promise. I missed you guys.

I had a great trip. Lots of laughs and tears and more laughs. New Hampshire was absolutely beautiful.

So much more to tell...