There’s a fool I pity – and that’s the unlucky sucker who is in front of me while boarding my Asiana Airlines flight to Korea. Any slow movers in front of me might wind up with my hoofprints on their backs. And I’ll probably volunteer to herd every other passenger aboard and personally buckle them into their seats so we can take off. Yes, I’m that fired up.
But as excited as I am about my first Asian adventure, I know that there are things I’ll miss. I’ll be fine without them for a few days. But then -- they’ll pop into my mind. And here they are:
The Cat – For the past 10 years, Noir has been my furry little buddy. He is a very vocal, energetic, people-loving character. Not bad for an ill-bred, uncouth, back-alley tomcat! Unlike most cats, he also holds no grudges about my occasional long absence. And props as always to my bandmate and friend Todd, who looks after Noir during my adventures.
- It’s hard to fit all these guys in the same frame.
My Band – I’ve been playing music in Hung Dynasty for seven years. The aforementioned cat-sitter Todd was one of the two co-best men at my wedding. The other two guys are just as awesome, as are the former members (Phung, Stacy, Laura, Matt). I love playing my instrument. I like the tunes we play. I thrive on the banter. Playing live music loud and nasty – it’s addictive. I miss it when I’m on the road adventuring.
The Bike – I can ride just about any quality bike and be happy. Bike shorts, shoes, pedals and helmets are another story. I’ve gotta have my own. And they take up a lot of room in a pack. So I forgo the mountain biking when I travel. Unfortunately, I often see people riding and I wind up with a series jones for some saddle time.
The Mexican Food – Sometimes, I can’t even go straight home from the airport. I have to stop at Le Condesssa and get a quesadilla. And one of its many types of savory salsas – like chipotle, cilantro and even pecan (yes, you read that right). If I’m somewhere like Iceland or the Midwest, the craving gets even more powerful.
The Car – There’s something about my Subaru Forester, my personal Battlestar Galactica. Sitting in the seat, stickshift in-hand -- I just feel at home. I know every noise it makes, every quirk. And I can MacGyver just about anything from the contents of its backseat. It also out-drives just about any car I’ve ever rented -- except the Subaru Impreza I rented in Portland.