I deserved a power nap rather than sitting through a falafel cooking lesson, but I did learn to write my name in hieroglyphics before nodding off. It was dress-like-an-Egyptian night for dinner and a Nubian dance performance once we stopped for the night in Aswan, the Land of Gold. My wife had bought an appropriate pink-beaded dress at the market. She was once again the Belle of the Boat. Other souvenirs purchased include several scarves, an embroidered pillow cover, cookbook, magnets, scarabs, and a Bes figurine, the god of laughter. The vendors were very aggressive!
We needed to get to sleep promptly for an early flight to Abu Simbel. At least the boat was docked by an area where I could get in a 2-mile run. As was the case every day, I had to grab a pass to leave the Viking Ra, but at least today there were smooth surfaces to navigate and I could actually enjoy my surroundings rather than focusing on my feet. I haven’t had time for a full 5k since Luxor, so only 25-miles so far this month in 12-days applied to “The Streak.”
On the way to the airport, the Viking bus made a quick photo stop at the top of The Aswan High Dam. It was Damn fine, but certainly not as impressive as the Hoover Dam, however it is actually a combination of two – High and Low. We’ll be flying round-trip this afternoon just to see the ancient monuments that were moved to rescue them from the flooding that occurred during dam construction. It was a monumental task!
I’m not doing a good job of keeping up on these posts, but the Viking schedule is quite demanding. We barely had time to unpack following the charter flight to Luxor, and several bus or shuttle rides before making our way to the Karnak Temple, Luxor Library, and a Heritage Center tour. These were my first encounters with hieroglyphics, obelisks, and ancient carvings. We were on the go until finally settling down for a late dinner, our first on the boat before finally succumbing to exhaustion.
I have to get up at 6a every morning to squeeze in a run. It was easy the first day aboard, knowing that I had to be back at the Ra by 8a for departure with plenty of time to cover a full 5k. Each day the window of opportunity would get more and more difficult, settling for the minimum mileage or finding a safe course to maintain “The Streak.” Day 2, I followed the a similar outdoor path along the Nile, but found myself a bit unsettled after being chased by a pack of wild dogs. Day 3, we were docked in Esna, while the security folks would not let me leave the compound, so I was forced to jog over uneven pavers. I’ve been assured that when we get to Aswan tomorrow, I will once again be on the streets for my daily workout.
In this 3-day time frame, we saw Luxor’s Goornah, the Valley of the Kings, the Rameses family tombs, and King Tut’s mummy, along with Howard Carter’s home during its discovery, the Valley of the Queens, Nefertari’s elaborate resting place, Colossi of Memnon, and the Temple of Khnum. It was a whirlwind of tourist activity, much like the Whirling Dervish performance onboard the Ra. As we cruise along the lush Nile Riverbanks, we’ve taken classes in the ancient Egyptian game of backgammon, language lessons in Arabic, and how to create our own Cartouche. It’s now time to relax for a day of sailing after seeing our fill of Tombs and Temples.
The force on the fourth was with us, as we started our journey to Egypt. After a quick run and dog duty, a driver took us to Tampa International Airport for the first of three long flights. The movie, The Whale, held my attention but I did not quite get to the end before touchdown. Newark was the first landing spot, with thoughts of a future boat ride on the Hudson River with our friends from nearby White Plains. We could see the distinct towers of the Big Apple in the distance as we shuttled by bus from one terminal to the next. Not knowing that we would be so well fed on the next flight, we had some meatballs at Piattino’s.
Our seats for the next leg were in a spacious Business Class pod with adjustments for a lounger and bed. Dinner was served on a white tablecloth with champaign. I then finished The Whale and Marry Me, struggling to get any sleep. We landed in Frankfurt with enough time for a run and exercise in a small, secluded landing just outside the Lufthansa First Class Lounge – it was probably a hundred tedious laps to cover the required mile in sixteen minutes.
The two-hour layover at the airport may turn out to be my only time in Germany after studying the language in high school. I also briefly saw the beautiful Swiss/ Austrian Alps sticking out over the clouds. We landed in Cairo surrounded by nothing but brown sand as far as the eye could see. Welcome to the desert and Cinco de Maya.
Two near tragedies were avoided along the way after security located my passport that I somehow misplaced during the security scanning steps. Also, when we arrived by taxi at the Sheraton Casino Hotel, my left hearing aid fell out and after frantically searching the ground and all but giving up finally found it stuck on my shoulder. Good fortune was with me in both cases. Dinner was on our own at Sapporo for sushi in the hotel before collapsing from exhaustion in our comfortable bed of Egyptian cotton.
In that first early morning, I chose to run a couple of miles through the chaotic streets of Cairo while my wife had breakfast. We were both soon touring the city by Viking bus and fascinated with the visit to the Egyptian Museum and Salah El-Din Citadel where we got our first glimpse of the Giza Pyramids through the haze. King Tut tomb treasures, of course, was the highlight. A late afternoon nap further confused the time difference from home, and it was back on the bus for the crowded marketplace and dinner at Zeeyara. My wife and I successfully bargained for scarves, an inlaid jewelry box and hand-tooled brass dish.
Sunrise came quickly. I completed my daily run on the treadmill instead of joining the group for the breakfast buffet. We were soon back on the bus for Giza and stops at the largest, oldest, and newest pyramids in the world, including a rare but claustrophobic, hunched-over descent into the actual burial chamber. Afterwards, I then narrowly avoided buying fancy rugs while observing the weaving process at a nearby carpet school. Lunch was at the Steigenberger Pyramids hotel directly across from the construction site of the new Grand Egyptian Museum. A camel ride and the Sphinx concluded an amazing afternoon in the Sahara Desert. Another short nap, then dinner at our hotel before setting another early alarm.
At 3:30a, I was ready to go to the fitness center, but it was closed so I did laps around the outdoor pool area. After packing our bags for the valets, I also had time for breakfast before the bus to the airport. We were then off to Luxor by charter plane to board the Viking riverboat Ra and the next leg of this incredible Nile River adventure.
I grew up in an era when awards weren’t issued simply for participation, so there was no trophy shelf in my bedroom growing up. My primary athletic skill was speed since I was small and skinny entering my teen years. I didn’t really have a growth spurt until later in high school. I fondly remember winning a grade school 50-yard dash in a track meet, establishing me as one of the fastest in the city but could not sustain this for any distance. Basketball and track were my sports, but I was only slightly better than average. At least I could outmaneuver others in flag football, and this proved beneficial in college intramurals when our freshman dorm team won the league championship. I also tried wrestling in high school but turned out to be nothing but a tackling dummy on two state championship teams.
I played a lot of ping pong and pool in the basement of the house and became proficient in both. These skills came in handy in college, particularly at the fraternity house, with an occasional winning bet that was always more rewarding than a trophy or ribbon. I attended Junior Basketball Camp for four years, hoping to improve my basketball skills but that provided futile. However, I did manage to win several blue ribbons for free throw shooting, frisbee, ping pong, and the talent show. As I took up distance running in my twenties, I also won a blue ribbon for my age group in a 10k, but that was probably because it was held in sub-zero conditions with very few competitors. All of these ribbons must have been important to me because I still have them in what I call my “Crapbook.”
Come to think of it, I might have also received a grade school perfect attendance award, but sadly I never got selected for crossing guard duty. One summer our neighbor talked me into joining the little league baseball team that he coached. Since I had never played organized baseball before, he put me out in right field where I could do the least damage. In my mind, I made a game saving, diving catch. In later years, without much of an arm but a good bat, I continued to play right field or second base in the media softball leagues where several team trophies were earned. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten an individual sports trophy. I also tried playing golf one summer and spent a lot of time at the country club. Even though I did break 100 and got a new set of clubs from my dad for doing so, I found golf to be boring and frustrating.
The only honor I earned through high school was an “E” for Elkhart High School in choir. I still have it with a couple of silver medals attached for solos performed in the state competition. I never got an “R” for Rice Elementary School, a “B” for Beardsley, or an “N” for North Side Junior High, although I participated on their teams but apparently was never worthy of a letter. Only starters earned the right to wear a letter sweater, while I sweated just to keep up with these “studs.”
I was a good student, making the National Honor Society, but never tried very hard or studied much. An afterschool program called Junior Achievement proved to be my forte, winning Salesperson of the Year along with other awards, including a small scholarship. Sales and business skills, along with self-confidence, learned in this 4-year program proved to be an asset throughout my career. I paid this back by serving on the Board of Directors of JA for many years. I do have a plaque for that!
I’ve never had much luck with motors and mechanics, starting with my very first car that had trouble doing just that. Before this first purchase, I drove my dad’s cars in high school, with no interest in motorcycles or scooters. My driver’s test took place in his 1965 Mustang convertible, and I snuck away to California in his Ford Galaxie. The wood-side-paneled Country Squire station wagon was our vacation and go-to-Church car, while I used it a couple of times to cruise Main Street. We packed it up as a family and dropped me off at Albion College where several of my fellow classmates had their own car. Without access to one of my own, I also did some hitchhiking back then, mainly down to Indiana University for weekend getaways.
I bought my own car in 1972, a brand new, bright red, Triumph GT6 fastback model, with a little help from my parents, after transferring to IU. It looked good on the outside, but the dual carburetors could not handle the icy, Indiana winters. It had trouble starting in the mornings and became a frustrating problem getting to classes on time. I took it into an automotive shop and learned a valuable lesson about buying sports cars that probably saved me thousands over the course of time. I dropped the car off in the evening after spending the day trying to get it going and instructed them to keep it inside for the night. The repair bill included a towing charge because they left it in the lot for the night. I refused to pay and was further infuriated when the mechanic told me that “anybody that can afford a car like this can pay the extra fee.” Going forward in life, all I ever wanted was a car that was reliable and affordable. But first, I wanted to get rid of this one.
The Triumph took me on a memorable drive to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, but after a year of marriage, it continued to give us problems in the winter and severely tested my mechanical ineptness, so I begged Marcia to trade it in on something. She came home with a used Gremlin, proving that her taste in cars wasn’t much better than mine. It was just another lemon, but we soon settled on a Volkswagen Beetle that changed my whole attitude about cars. It got great gas mileage, could get through the snow, and started without fail. We also had a Dodge van that she used for the Hall of Ivy plant business. Despite this streak of carefree motoring, I was able to avoid buying a boat, but I did have some misfortune with a snowmobile that broke down in the woods and was left to rust.
When I went to work at WTRC Radio, I developed a great relationship with the owner of a Buick dealership and bought several cars from him, including a Skylark and Regal. As I got into management, I was fortunate to drive company-owned cars for most of the remainder of my career, The first was a Jeep, followed by a Honda SUV, and finally a Toyota Camry. I then married a woman that loved driving her reliable Lexus but wanted a convertible, so our second car became a red 2011 Solara that we bought while living in Austin. However, she quickly passed it on to me once she eyed a used 2005 Gold, Lexus SC430, hard-top convertible that we still own in Florida. Just recently, we traded in the Solara for an electric golf cart, hopefully limiting my exposure to automotive problems and all things motorized.
Today was Wordle Puzzle #676 but I was not an early adapter, playing only for the 404th time out of 405. I’ve been playing well over a year now, somehow missing a day at some point, inadvertently ending another streak. Yesterday, I got stumped for only the 5th time with the word JOKER, interrupting my longest streak at 119 straight and a 99% solve rate. I will need another run of at least 100 to get back to that percentage, starting with this morning’s success. LEAFY was another memorable stopper, but JOKER was the first time I missed with multiple letters – both J and K.
My other streak, the running version, is still intact at 5,232 days, with the challenge of boat travel ahead. I’ll probably have to use the deck or treadmill on our upcoming Nile River tour, as I walk then run like an Egyptian!
Here’s the Bangles’ version of that tune, although Steve Martin made the strut famous:
All the old paintings on the tomb
They do the sand dance, don’t you know
If they move too quick (oh way oh)
They’re falling down like a domino
All the bazaar men by the Nile
They got the money on a bet
Gold crocodiles (oh way oh)
They snap their teeth on your cigarette
Foreign types with the hookah pipes say
Way oh way oh, way oh way oh
Walk like an Egyptian
The blonde waitresses take their trays
They spin around and they cross the floor
They’ve got the moves (oh way oh)
You drop your drink
Then they bring you more
All the school kids so sick of books
They like the punk and the metal band
When the buzzer rings (oh way oh)
They’re walking like an Egyptian
All the kids in the marketplace say
Way oh way oh, way oh way oh
Walk like an Egyptian
Slide your feet up the street
Bend your back
Shift your arm, then you pull it back
Life is hard you know (oh way oh)
So strike a pose on a Cadillac
If you wanna find all the cops
They’re hanging out in the donut shop
They sing and dance (oh way oh)
They spin the clubs, cruise down the block
All the Japanese with their yen
The party boys call the Kremlin
And the Chinese know (oh way oh)
They walk the line like Egyptian
All the cops in the donut shop say
Way oh way oh, way oh way oh
Walk like an Egyptian
Walk like an Egyptian
RUN like an Egyptian
RUN like an Egyptian
It’s Monday and time to break out in song, especially in retirement when Monday doesn’t have a full-time job to go with it. Instead, I’m done with my run and headed to lunch with a friend, and the chiropractor. Still mourning the death of a beloved Meatball and weighing the implications that it could happen to anybody at any time:
Monday, Monday (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
So good to me (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Monday mornin’ (ba-da-ba-da-da-da-da)
It was all I hoped it would be
Oh, Monday mornin’
Monday mornin’ couldn’t guarantee (ba-da-ba-da-da-da-da)
That Monday evenin’ you would still be here with me
Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day
Monday, Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh, Monday mornin’, you gave me no warnin’ of what was to be
Oh, Monday, Monday, how could you leave and not take me?
Every other day (every other day), every other day
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes (but whenever Monday comes)
But whenever Monday comes, you could find me cryin’ all of the time
Monday, Monday (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
So good to me (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Monday mornin’, it was all I hoped it would be
But Monday mornin’, Monday mornin’ couldn’t guarantee
(That Monday evenin’ you would still be here with me)
Every other day (every other day), every other day
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes (but whenever Monday comes)
But whenever Monday comes you can find me cryin’ all of the time
Monday, Monday (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Can’t trust that day (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Monday, Monday (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
It just turns out that way (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Woh oh, Monday, Monday (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Won’t go away (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Monday, Monday (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
It’s here to stay (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Oh oh, Monday, Monday (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Oh oh, Monday, Monday (ba-da-ba-da-da-da)
Oh oh oh, Monday
Another Saturday has arrived after an evening with the neighbors. In two more Saturdays, we will be in Cairo. There is a dinner with my wife’s bridge group tonight. Next Saturday, I have the day to myself since my wife has theater tickets and a dinner date with a girlfriend. Tally and I will have to fend for ourselves, along with Sophie, our schnauzer guest for the night. Another episode of Succession was our late night entertainment, after I listened to the White Sox blow another game to the Rays.
I make the Sunday morning drive to St. Pete for the final game in the series, as the Sox try to salvage a single victory. A former Ft. Wayne radio friend will meet me in the Publix parking lot where 275 branches off from I-75 near Palmetto to cross the Sunshine Skyway bridge. We’ve attended many White Sox games together, including the last two years as residents of Florida. My son has to work today, so he won’t join us for this year’s reunion.
I’m wearing my #10 personalized Sox jersey with the 2005 World Series patch. It has been eighteen years since that monumental occasion, with little hope for an encore. The team is quickly sinking (stinking) to the bottom of the division with a 7-14 record to start the season. Tampa Bay is now 18-3, by far the best in baseball. Lucas Giolito is on the mound with a 4.29 ERA, facing unbeaten Zach Eflin.
I just got word that another media friend has passed away. Between classmates, co-workers, and acquaintances it’s hard to keep up. He had a heart attack years ago and was revived but not this time, sadly. I need to start approaching every day as if it’s my last and stop worrying about tomorrow. Seize the Day – Carpe Diem.
My wife collects recipes and cookbooks, to the point where we have plastic bins filled with recipe clippings and hundreds of celebrity chef books. Our pantry bookshelves are filled with them, and they are not just for show. She cooks with these recipes frequently and isn’t afraid to experiment, making her a top chef in my eyes. Guests are never disappointed with her creations and willingness to prepare them.
Our days of dining in five-star restaurants are probably over. The retirement budget simply doesn’t allow for pricy dining options. Plus, we’re satisfied with the range of top restaurants that we’ve frequented for business and pleasure through the years. To top it all, we finally made it to The French Laundry a few years ago. There aren’t many things a restaurateur can do to impress us anymore, so it’s not worth the price. However, we still do a weekly “Date Night,” with the basic rule to try only restaurants and diners that we’ve never been to before.
Last night was a combination “Date Night” and 22nd wedding anniversary. However, it was a restaurant favorite, The Perfect Caper, that features a woman chef that beat Bobby Flay. By definition, it wouldn’t qualify as a “Date Night,” but it was her choice, the best in our area. We were married in Las Vegas at the Bellagio Chapel, on the ominous date that celebrates both national Pot Day and Adolph Hitler’s birthday. A placard on our table wished us a “Happy Birthday” – well, close. Chef/Owner Jeanie Roland introduced herself to us and signed her book, Butter Love & Cream, to the great delight of my wife. I didn’t have much to give her this year except this dinner and the cookbook – the chef made her day. Jeanie’s restaurants in hometown Westerly, Rhode Island and here in Punta Gorda have achieved national acclaim, founded the year after we were married. Today, this cookbook is her favorite, along with The Perfect Caper Home Cookbook that is also part of her pantry book collection.
I’m picking up my granddaughter from Pre-K at noon and will keep her until we drive to Punta Gorda for our 7p anniversary dinner at The Perfect Caper. She’ll enjoy a ride on the golf cart, that she calls her “go cart.” We’ll go to the playground and hunt for alligators on the elevated boardwalk through the Islandwalk nature preserve. She’ll be five next month when we’re in Egypt.
We’ve done a lot of dining out and entertaining this week, more than our retirement budget can probably handle. My wife prepared dinner three nights for guests, while I went out to eat twice. Tomorrow night is the neighborhood pitch-in, Saturday evening the bridge club meets with spouses for dinner, and Sunday we’re invited to a neighbor’s home. I will just be getting back from St. Pete and the White Sox game against the Rays. Monday is another lunch for me with a friend down the street.
Once these next few weeks are over, the neighborhood population will shrink in size as folks head north for the summer. We’ll leave for our Egyptian tour, and when we get back in late May things should be quiet on our street, except for our Indy 500 party for those still around. We’ll have my wife’s June birthday to celebrate after she flies to Indy for a bridal event. Tally and I get to stay home until Portland in mid-July and the actual Indianapolis wedding in late August.
We’re trying to decide on a travel plan to Indiana and the stops we’ll make there and back in August. It will be about the same cost to drive there instead of airline and rental car expenses. The Louisville Slugger museum is a possibility and maybe Hilton Head on the way home. We’ll soon get out the map and plot a course.
