“Run Forrest Run” seems to be capture the essence of Tom Hanks’s character in film. Whether fleeing racist bullies in the segregated South, escaping death by rowboat from a deserted island, or dodging media scrutiny for ditching his crippled plane as pilot on the Hudson River, here is my ideal of a calm and collected” man. Rarely overthinking his fears about the past and future, these heroic roles depict a common sense approach to making moment to moment” decisions when life-threatening challenges are faced. As a huge believer in the idea of being in tune with the “now” through independent travel, the following video/quote excerpts from four of his most famous films seem most relevant to this Hanks admirer.

Forrest Gump

“My mama always said, “Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.”

I live in uncertain times as a middle class retiree, yet relish the opportunity to experience a cultural awakening in India or volunteer to save wildlife in Africa. It would be a waste of my life today to worry about the prospects of age-related illness or the security threats of terrorism. I will take my chances to accept the risks of traveling on my terms.

Apollo 13

“From now on we live in a world where man walked on the moon. It’s not a miracle. We just decided to go.”

Finding new places to visit seems overwhelming at times in the vast world of opportunity. Many locations that once appeared rationally inaccessible, however, now seem within my practical reach of travel. With commercial flights to Cuba now possible, I would relish the idea of scenic travel to this secretive, Communist country. The distant remoteness of Tibet or Antarctica  could not deter me from visiting them with the multitude  of online travel booking options.

Castaway

“I know what I have to do now. I gotta keep breathing. Because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring?”

In practicing yoga for over five years. I have learned through meditation to plan my days mentally to “let go” of life’s uncertainties. I am not the cause of external stress conditions in the environment that surrounds me yet I do control my reaction to them. Many islands of contentment exist in my traveling mind as I read a little, laugh a bit, and get some exercise whether I am physically traveling or not.

Sully

“Everything is unprecedented until it happens for the first time.”

I never thought that I would use my 2008 Honda for anything but daily work commute to school yet found it practical in retirement for  completing several, marathon road trips across the United States. Wondering at the end of a long school day if my creaky knees would limit me physically as I got older, I could never predict that I would now embrace walking ten or more miles a day in my European travels. Absorbed in my busy dedication to lead my class, I would rarely take risks outside of the familiar environs of my work setting for social commitment but now have embraced the extra time in retirement to develop friendship connections internationally. Clearly, my curiosity to experience “newness” has always been an asset to my independent travels.

The experience of travel has always seemed much easier when I have been the one departing. While bidding my goodbyes to friends and family typically can be intensely discomforting, the thrill of escape on a new adventure has often overshadowed this inevitable farewell trauma. Today, my wife leaves for a one week vacation with Yoga friends in the rustic mountains of North Carolina while I stay home to face the unfamiliar territory of bachelorhood. While the absence of my significant other is merely temporary, I consider this hiatus as a “wake up “‘opportunity for me to strengthen our marriage and function with self-sufficient confidence as needed.

Hearing the voice of my wife from afar no doubt offers me new opportunities for genuine communication. To miss her presence beside me now tests the spirit of togetherness that suddenly has been removed from our marital equation.The true meaning of love in our marriage becomes clearer now as I struggle to realize what life would be like without her. Under such circumstances, it might even behoove me to imagine what my last words to her might be if we faced together the ominous fate of an imminent death on a crippled plane in its fiery descent to the earth.

The equality of male/female gender relations in my marriage is also tested today in my wife’s absence from the daily routine. Facing the impeding urgency of housekeeping tasks this week, I can more honestly view my part in this unglamorous but necessary part of keeping my marriage stable. I imagine myself like an octopus presence, possessing many hands to complete a sizable list of domestic obligations. Checking the wash while watching TV or rebooting the Internet as I prepare my dinner have suddenly become real for me for as I multitask mightily to keep the home in working order.

My wife and I agreed early in our marriage that we would always make time to travel together regularly. Given the freedom of many days off to escape from our hectic life as school teachers, our “eye to the sky” gave us little time at home to reflect on the aging process.We were rarely present to celebrate the holidays with family/friends and it became a foregone conclusion that we would never  have children to prevent us from sustaining our lifestyle of active self-indulgence in travel.

Serious reflection about the long term impact of these Wanderlust life choices arise in my mind more freely now. Am I prepared to cope with getting older? How capable would I be to manage a monthly budget on my own? Am I willing to network socially to find more friends? Now is a good time for me to test my independent resolve while my “magic carpet” is grounded.

“Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall”

(Robert Frost, The Mending Wall)

When Jimmy was younger, he loved to throw his ball outside the house. Being a curious one, it seemed then that no fences or walls could limit his desire for hurling his toy as far as the eye could see. One day, he was tossing around a football with a friend when the ball landed beyond his sight. Moving quickly to retrieve it, he observed his precious ball sitting next to an American flag displayed prominently beyond a wall separating the adjoining property owners yard.

Sensing no immediate danger, Jimmy proceeded to climb over this five feet high barrier. Suddenly he was stopped in his tracks by the loud shouts of his neighbor, ordering him to get off this private land immediately. He had never seen this angrily sounding man before and wondered why a little boy just having fun was being perceived as a threat now. Did this neighbor have something to hide, he thought? Did he hate kids? Why could he not share his yard with Jimmy today?

Confused by the aggressive actions of this nearby resident, Jimmy would later learn from his father that this man had built this wall not to protect his property, but to demonstrate his loathsome attitude toward foreigners living in his neighborhood. Facing this grim reality of segregation in this wall in childhood would later serve as a “symbolic lesson” for his future world travels as any such attempts to insulate the world from others would never do. Jimmy’s quest would be to find a way to open coexistence in the company of others, no matter how different the cultural challenges would be at the time.

In Australia, he would celebrate his self accomplishment of finishing a hard earned climb to the top of Ayers Rock, yet humbly join with his multi-national competitors in a spirit of unity to celebrate the spiritual significance of this natural phenomenon. In Kenya, he would disregard the racial stereotypes of African tribal life to jump jubilantly with members of the Masai Tribe within the grounds of their homeland. In Amsterdam, he would forego his dislike of mob scene mentality to join in raucous celebrations of World Cup greatness as the Dutch soccer team returned from their latest match win. In Thailand, he would learn to use the Buddhist hand greeting gesture in social encounters as a way to become more respectful toward the unfamiliar, Asian surroundings.

The current obsession by Donald Trump and his supporters to build a Mexico bordered wall along the Southern border of our country thus gives me good reason to doubt the success of these efforts. Would it not make more sense for him to tear down the wall of his secretive life as a ruthlessly exploitive businessman and release his tax returns?In his ego centered desire to win the Presidency, would he be willing to sacrifice some of his own wealth to help Mexico or taxpayers pay for this costly wall? Would his political flip flops about immigration policy give Americans true confidence that his wall would enhance our country’s National Security? Before Donald decides to build fortresses to surround his castle as King of the land, he must face his own walls of imperfection.

“For all the cruelty and hardship of our world, we are not mere prisoners of fate. Our actions matter, and can bend history in the direction of justice.”(Nobel Prize Lecture, 2009)

Last week, my former neighbor and friend, Steve, lost his life to cancer at age 55. An F.B.I special agent for 26 years, I recall jogging with a man of an outwardly, unmacho exterior, impressive bilingual skills and an extraordinary memory for detail. His captivating stories of facing dangerous drug traffickers in the field every day convinced me then to improbably imagine my friendly neighbor as a modern day “Wyatt Earp.”

At the time we were condo residents in the same building, I too was facing my own insecurities as a workaholic and struggling inner city teacher in Miami. Facing the confusing challenge of teaching disadvantaged students in a high poverty and racially segregated area, then, these casual conversations with Steve helped me immensely at the time. I remember his calm yet serious depictions of attempting to follow “the letter of the law” to chase down dangerous drug dealers in South Florida. I recall his patient will to forego violence in favor of peaceful questioning in the presence of gun toting suspects who were willing to kill to sustain their lucrative livelihood. I recaptured his frustration when the bureaucracy of the FBI rules of conduct limited his options to interrogate suspects swiftly. In sum, I had now realized that my FBI neighbor living nearby had motivated me to face my own fears of personal and professional frailty in a productive way then.

in addition to his career as the “good guy”, criminal chaser, Steve was a committed family man, who often welcomed my wife and I’s presence into his home. In spite of his 24-7 lifestyle as an FBI agent, I recall a man who always made time to oversee his family responsibilities as husband and father. While his stories around the dinner table always showed his career passion for apprehending the “bad guy”, he could detach from this serious side as “father figure” to enjoy life and laugh or rule as “head of the household” authority with his wife and two daughters as needed.

The legacy of our friendship with Steve and his family continued to blossom in spite of his acceptance of difficult FBI assignments in Puerto Rico, Virginia, Mexico, and Texas. While his stories to humanely rid the world of illegal drug dealing were no longer heard, his example of moral and legal justice continued to spark new lessons in my mind. Our borders with Latin America would not be made more secure by torturing suspects for crime lead confessions, forcing taxpayers to pay for costly walls or deporting all aliens indiscriminately. Activism not isolationism with friend or enemy was Steve’s way and he had the earned medals in bravery to prove it.

It seems odd that the most serious danger to my friend’s life came from within as the cancer rapidly metastasized in his body. Attending his memorial service in church today, I imagined this omnipresent hero returning to oversee these solemn proceedings. In typical Steve fashion, the room would have turned silent as he would slowly have told the captive audience about the simple yet risky details of his latest engagement with the enemy. I am truly honored now to remember the courageous life of my friend and mentor who provided this exemplary model for justice in unselfish service to our country.

I once had the privilege of attending a concert of the famed trumpeter Miles Davis. Hearing him play his “cool jazz” live seemed to be sufficient reason to enjoy the moment then, but I soon realized that his oblivious attention to the audience became the main source of my entertainment. Aloofly turning his back to the seats beyond to focus intently on his own interpretations for each selection, I reviled Miles that night as an arrogantly unappreciative performer. Finishing this brilliantly selfish performance, Miles walked nonchalantly off the stage without returning for the expected post-concert encore. I now realize that Miles did not need to prove his greatness to anyone that night nor did he need the attention of others to satisfy his ego. What factors then did elevate his status to greatness beyond the expected norm?

I spent fifteen years attempting to teach my skill-challenged college students in South Florida to pursue high standards of reading and writing performance. Unfortunately, expectations of success systemwide typically centered around the safe prospect of simply passing the class as a demonstration of minimal competency. Continuing my lifetime commitment to excellence amidst this haunting past of systemic mediocrity, I am attempting to implement three (3) ideas from my teaching days that I perceive to represent greatness through the act of travel.

1. Focus On The Present To Overcome Outside Distraction

As I recall my best teaching performances in college, poetry comes to mind. Immersing my students in the need to read for both fact and emotion, we slowly read each line of a stanza in class. By concentrating on being “in the zone” of present time then, they improved their focus for concentration on the academic task at hand and often learned lessons critical to their their own self understanding. In travel, I have similarly attempted to focus on the “now” experience of my surroundings rather than directing my attention to the uncertain fate at my intended destination. A brief glance of a snowy mountain or a casual conversation with a stranger in transit would stir my curiosity to better myself as a person and gain useful knowledge for future travel.

2. Let Intuition Guide My Projected Path.

The regimented routine of teaching often dictated rigid adherence to a clearly defined lesson plan. Over-reliance on tightly managed time schedules and heavily scripted teacher editions often limited my ability to make changes to lesson content when it appeared my students were not absorbing the material presented. The intuition of my Plan B psyche became my norm then as I frequently found classical music and You Tube videos to be an effective, non-traditional learning medium. I similarly have road tripped across the U.S., accompanied by a massive amount of map/travel guide information and my vehicle’s GPS directional guidance system for planning my intended itinerary of travel. There are frequent occasions, however, when I have intuitively felt the need the need to get off the Interstate highway to blindly explore countryside locations in more detail. Traveling Route 66 in the West and U.S. 61 along the Mississippi River have revealed meaningful insights about the history of this country that my research had not mentioned.

3. The Basics Propel Higher Functioning Abilities

In my youth, I learned the meaning of the phrase, ” You cannot squeeze blood out of a turnip.” If a student had not learned fundamental basics of Vocabulary and Reading Comprehension in high school, then there was a viable purpose for them to take my college reading class. In my 16 week semester, I systematically approached the instruction of each skill as a building block to the next one. By the end of the course, students who were initially diagnosed at a reading level of 6th grade were now able to function competently with academic reading tasks at the college level. Similarly, I have recently found that my attempt to sustain a lifestyle of world traveler would require me to build knowledge of deep, cultural values and second language settings to better prepare me for packing wisely, maximizing safety and spending frugally in my future globetrotting endeavors. I have additionally refrained from making comments about race, politics, and religion on Facebook/Twitter without sufficient background information of fact.

It is clear then that a true artist does not need the gratifications of others to exhibit greatness of craft. To remain relevant to the present would also skirt the real meaning of being brilliant. In a world of “what have you done for me lately”, one must set their own high standards of excellence in spite of the inducement to follow the expected road to success

One of the insights about  my retirement travels in the past two years has been the urgency to relieve myself of all the unneeded physical and emotional baggage from my past. Simply put, it is easier to live with less stuff when you realize the deception that luxuries are not necessities. Overcoming the fear of change complicates my desire to live a simpler life at times. In order to concentrate on my priority of downsizing to live more freely from my urban neurosis, then, I consider the following self actions vital now.

1. The Morning Fix of Newspapers

A morning newspaper has always seemed like an All American part of life, even though I have rarely taken the time to thoroughly read it. Rising every morning to digest the daily drug of world tragedies, depressing obituaries, and sports wins/losses, however, no longer feels motivating or useful. In addition, it puzzles me why I need to collect this pile of paper each day, which is largely composed of advertisements and old news. Become paperless now. Just click on my I Pad to peruse a variety of reputable news mediums and I might concentrate more thoroughly on a sharpening of my critical thinking skills instead.

2. The Study Den Effect

As I sit in my spare bedroom, I am surrounded by shelves of books that I no longer serve a meaning purpose. These memoriams of academic curiosity and career advancement collect dust now, as I attempt to free myself of egoistic advancement in life. No longer needing to hide in secrecy amidst my private library now, it makes sense to donate my collection to a more worthier cause. My Kindle Reader will offer me an electronic plethora of reading opportunities in any place of my desire. Why pay full price for a book now, when I receive through my Book Bub app each day, a list of recommended items that I can download inexpensively for less than $2.00 or even for free?

3. Clothes Hide the Person No More

Dressing for success brings up the question about the kind of person I want to be. Never buying into the ideas of modern fashion trends while living in a subtropical area of little seasonal change, I ponder a closet stuffed with clothes that I no longer aspire to wear. Do I really need the obligatory dress shirt or bulky sweater received each birthday? Does my passion for a winning team necessitate a box full of outdated football and baseball hats? Would I wear a tightly tailored suit anywhere in South Florida when humidity and heat deems a more informal attire? Simply put, the person should make the clothes, not the clothes make the person. Get rid of the clothes that no longer fit you in size and emotion and you are on your way to your true identity now.

4. It’s Ok To Have a Blank Wall

In order to feel relaxed at home, the less clutter the better. I never envisioned my home as an art museum yet it is obvious that framed art pieces, decorative wall hangings, and trophy display cases distract my visual attention every day. Gazing out my back porch at the serene lake beyond will sufficiently meet my needs for aesthetic beauty now. Digitizing my wall mementos as pictures and videos on my I Pad will enable me to make space at home while preserving precious memories.

5. Turn off the Reality Focus

The “reality show culture” that I have been subjected to through social media, news reports, and election conflict reveals a willingness to “dummy down” the human thinking process. Emotional bias and unsupported opinion run rampant on Facebook/Twitter while bookshelves in libraries collect dust. Teenagers use cutesy emoticons online to communicate with their peers as their writing skills in school settings steadily decline. Cable television stations like the History and Weather Channel sacrifice informational content for shallow acts of realism. The negative blame game occurring in the race for the highest political office in our country brings questions about the viability of the democratic process.

Imagine the story of Robinson Crusoe, who survived simply with nature on a deserted island, without knowledge of the outside world. In returning home, how would he feel about the crushing desire for materialistic affluence in our urban world? What positive values about life would he have learned from his harsh lessons of independent survival? Knowing that my island of self contentment lies in the present moment, it is time for me to say no to these endless diversions from a thoughtfully reflective life.

In an election year marked by vicious divisions in our country, there is uncertainty as to the direction our country will follow. I am alarmed by the extremist tirades of a Presidential candidate who incites anger and violence against minority groups, immigrants and his political opponent in this country. I am fearful that the fear of ISIS at home will lure voters to support isolationist withdrawal in an increasingly globalized world. I am appalled that our constitutional  liberties are under siege by an agitator who dares to build exclusionary walls or silence the free press in this country. I am repulsed that a Presidential candidate with no government experience or tangible evidence can indiscriminately mock our electoral system as rigged. As an American who must get back to his fall rituals of daily survival, I will continue to have faith in unity over separatism in these troubling times.

Our country will soon rejoice in the return of the gladiator ritual of American football. In South Florida, a full house of hero-starved fans endure sweltering heat and rain threatened conditions to re-embrace the game of football at Miami Dolphins Training Camp in early August. Observing the diverse representation of race, age, and nationality attentively watching today’s practice, fond memories return. I recall being a season ticket holder when each home game guaranteed a sold out stadium rocking with contagious energy for Dan Marino led teams. While football seemingly means little in matters of life and death, its potential to galvanize a community’s thoughts in hope of attaining a winning team again cannot be ignored.

As many Americans return from summer vacation, realities of daily survival routines re-emerge. In anticipation of increased retail spending, consumers will be enticed by tax free, holiday sales and back to school extravaganzas. In spite of the expected spike in middle class, economic growth, I keep in mind that there are many Americans who will still need help with the basic necessities of survival. Charitable donations and food/clothing drives would help to “even the game” for many while senior volunteering commitments would provide experienced mentors for those who appear to be overwhelmed by life’s challenges.

As students return to to begin a new school year, many will again recite the Pledge of Allegiance” as each day of class begins. Let the exalted meaning of this historical tradition serve as a role model for our educated masses to counteract the negative attacks on our political system today. Senseless appeals to violence and misguided acts of cynicism must not diminish the “good” of our democracy. Students must be reminded in these daily readings that our American system of government must continues to exist with “Liberty and Justice For All.”

It is time to take the long road home to South Florida. Facing the summer heat, in full force now, my wife and I long for the cool confines of coastal California once more. Aware of the necessity to travel greater distance daily for the sake of our returning deadline, car and driver seem to have united as one.

Loneliness sets in at times now to remind me that my loved ones at home remain faithful to my existence. Life on the road seems less glamorous as I ponder how my commitments will resume as a busy, South Florida resident. I am hopeful that the transition to become again a comforting presence for an aging mother will be a smooth one. Restless thoughts of unbridled, travel freedom, however, will soon return to urge me to get back on the road again.

Social Media today forces me every day to take a long look at my compulsive identity as a world traveler. Never enamored by gossip and innuendo, Facebook nonetheless provides me with a flexible tool for posting meaningful, travel information with social connections of my choice. Lacking the will to compose long, written letters to a few, selected loved ones these days, my weekly blogging on Word Press will enable me to commit to a theme of writing that touches a far wider audience of followers with common interest at no cost.

The truth of the matter seems to be that my aspiration to become an itinerant wanderer in retirement is a premeditated life choice. Home will never mean a permanent place now, but rather a temporary respite in the depths of my mind to prepare for the next adventure sought. The challenge of sustaining quality time with family and friends for an extended period, however, will remain the true test of this wanderlust commitment.

As the last days of our marathon road trip would soon end in Summer 2016, my wife and I decided to engage our traveling spirit in the always fun town of New Orleans. One hundred degree heat and periodic rain squalls would slow us down some, but not deter us from finding casual enjoyment in the renowned, French Quarter of the city.

In tourist friendly New Orleans, drinking alcohol with breakfast is a common sight. In fact, there are some unusual, morning drink combinations that might ordinarily shock the senses at any time of day. Finding a precious bar seat at the famed, Ruby Slipper, the bartender proceeded to demonstrate his ability to mix a favorite drink here: the bacon drenched Bloody Mary. Needless to say, I uneventfully opted for a more normal breakfast of grits and eggs to begin the day. Curiously eying a studious gentleman reading next to me, we engaged in an unexpected conversation about the impact of the Ottoman Empire in Europe. The conversation would soon turn into an opportunity to exchange heated views about Donald Trump’s impact on American politics.

No longer interested in “night owl” clubbing as health conscious baby boomers, we set off in early afternoon for a leisurely walk along the narrow streets of the famed Bourbon Street corridor. While curiously enjoying the party atmosphere of sexy burlesque theater, pulsating bar music and open alcohol consumption at this early hour there, I felt increasingly confined by the mob scene of tourists surrounding me. Ducking into the Famous Felix’s Cafe for a breather, we casually indulged in a favorite food choice of the area: Oysters Rockefeller.

Surviving the Bourbon Street gauntlet of hedonistic temptation, we now reached Krazy Corner. Quickly recognizing the Earthcam Video feed, broadcasting overhead at this intersection, I proceeded to wave and make funny faces at the inviting camera for all the world to see. How true it seemed, however, that the vicarious impression of a camera angle here could not truly portray the sensory euphoria of Bourbon Street madness that was inspiring my spur of the moment antics then.

Turning toward the tranquil, river bank shores of the Mississippi River now, we passed through the heart of the French Quarter, Jackson Square, to savor a famous French Beignet. I found time here to reminisce with my wife about memories of past visits to New Orleans in our youthful innocence as a twenty something newlyweds. We agreed that The “Big Easy”, as it is so aptly named, remains a unique place for us to indulge in spontaneous enjoyment at any age.

My wife and I had decided to turn south from Interstate 40 toward our home in South Florida to find relief from the relentless heat throughout the country now. Crossing the massive, expanse of the Mississippi River below Memphis, we had booked a one night stay at a cozy motel in Tunica, Mississippi. Once one of poorest towns in America, it had become revitalized economically by the building of glitzy casino row along the river. Weary from our three month trek on the road, however, the need for nightclub excitement did not interest us tonight.

The thought of catfish entered my mind somehow with the muddy Mississippi River nearby. It seemed destined that this prophecy of Southern cuisine would lead us to a place steeped in American blues tradition, the “Hollywood Cafe,” For it was in this tiny establishment of seemingly no interest that Marc Cohn sat at an aging piano to record his Grammy hit, ” Walking in Memphis.” Taking his inspiration from Muriel Wilkins, a blues performer at this revered institution, Marc’s song beautifully captured both the beauty and tragedy of rural, Southern life along the river.

Taking a closer look at Tunica I began to realize the true meaning of blues music. Along the Mississippi River, an inviting air of affluence prevailed amidst the glittery towers of riverside casinos. Further inland along Route 61, however, it appeared that many residents in the surrounding black community of Tunica proper remained abjectly impoverished in shanty housing and strictly segregated from white society. While the beauty of the mighty Mississippi River and surrounding resorts captivated the eye’s attention, the slow pace of change for the community as a whole affected me emotionally. Singing the blues then, I realized had found a musical outlet for expressing renewed hope in every cry of despair experienced here.