I’m on a flight to Maui and movie service has been discontinued.  I’m not sure how long before we get there but they just finished the final drink service, appropriately a Mai Tai cocktail.  There was little left to do but write and sip on this cocktail.  It doesn’t really matter what day it is or even what time all I know is that I’m stuck in the center seat on an airplane traveling at high speeds with nowhere to go, except maybe the rest room once the beverage cart gets out of the way  I do see some blue sky out the window, something I haven’t been accustomed to for some time, living in the rainy Northwest.  It was even raining as we landed in Sacramento with no jet-way to keep us dry.  I need some direct sunshine, and not just a view of it out the cabin window.  I must add some brown to my pasty white skin and get some natural Vitamin D, not something out of  a bottle.

They just announced that there is a little over an hour until we land.  I hope my bladder holds out that long.  I watched the movie “Keeping up with the Joneses,” and am half-way through “Rules Don’t Apply” about the oddities of Howard Hughes. I’ll watch the conclusion on the flight home a week from Sunday.  I realized that rules don’t apply in retirement, either.  It’s a unique, personal experience that you plan for years and hope meets your expectations.  I like my time alone and the stress-free state of mind, but I also worry that I will grow tired of the isolation.  I have to initiate interaction with others, but only if I want.  I don’t have to be anywhere at any given time unless I schedule accordingly.  Otherwise, I can stay home and be content.

Among other personal quirks, I don’t like driving in the car, many times resent pet responsibilities, and often don’t want the phone to ring.  Am I becoming like Howard Hughes?  He could have anything, yet preferred being a hermit.  On the other hand, I like to be around people, so there’s a sense of confusion in my behavior.  I enjoy meeting friends for lunch, date nights with my wife, and attending sporting events.  I do these things regularly, but also need my time alone.  I could play solitaire for hours, watch a documentary or a game, listen to music, and read a book.  I’m what some would define as a intra-extravert.

Travel can be stressful, but it’s also rewarding.  I always get tense preparing for a road trip.  All the planning, packing, and worrying that goes into making sure to have everything necessary makes me crazy.  It’s, in fact, also a lot like retirement!  I spend the first few hours of any trip wondering what I forgot.  It’s always such a relief when I finally get to my destination.  The problem is that there’s usually another destination the next day.  It can be aggravating, exhausting, and intimidating.  However, there is a sense of accomplishment once it’s over.  The trick for me is to enjoy it along the way.  It used to be that a bad day of vacation was better than a good day working.  Can I say that in retirement?

Is a bad day of retirement being bored?  I have yet to be bored in the first three months of retirement.  I’m as busy as I want to be.  Some days may not seem so appealing to some people, particularly those who enjoy going to work, but satisfaction is in the eyes of the beholder.  I don’t seem to need the approval of others anymore.

We grabbed a cab but were misdirected on where to catch one.  When we arrived at the Marriott our room was not ready, despite using their advance check-in app.  They were able to get a room ready in a half-hour, but paid no heed to my early check-in request.  So what’s the purpose of checking in on the app if they are going to check you in again as you arrive?  My wife and I both use Marriott as we travel and have accumulated a lot of points through their frequent-user membership program.  We carry a high status yet can’t get into our room two hours early?  We were tired, having had an early morning flight out of Portland, three hours ahead of Island time and they put us in a crummy room right by the kids pool with no ocean view as the reservation had stated.  Years ago, I got in the habit of requesting “The Third Room,” during the check-in process.  I would say, “my wife is probably not going to like the First room you put us in, or maybe even the Second, so let’s just skip all the hassle and just give me the Third room.”  I usually don’t have a problem with Marriott since they have all the preferences in their system, an upper level room with a bath tub, view, and double bed.  On this occasion, we get a lower level room with a shower and a view of pool umbrellas and noisy kids.  Needless to say, they had to move us to the Second room.  We were too tired to ask for a Third.

We finally got a couple hours of sunshine, a great dinner, and a good night’s sleep, so we were ready for anything on Day 2.  Rain was in the forecast, but fortunately that didn’t happen.  What did happen was some sunburn.  I was quietly reading when I noticed a woman at the other end of pool area that looked familiar, but I was not wearing my glasses.  My wife caught me staring at what she assumed was a bikini.  As it turned out, it was a co-worker and neighbor with her husband that coincidentally picked the same day, island, and hotel.  It is a smaller world the older you get, having accumulating lots of acquaintances through the years.  I’m one of those that rarely travels anywhere without seeing someone familiar from my past, while struggling to recall their face, name, or place that we met.  It wasn’t until we both got in the pool and got a little closer together that we recognized each other.  She was also without her glasses, but probably the biggest barrier to instant recognition was the fact that we were both half-naked in bathing suits.  Both of us were also very pale looking Portlandians (people from Portland) surrounded by darkly tanned bodies worthy of envy.

The first two days went by quickly, and my pale complexion is at least now red in color.  In a few more days, it will turn brown and the soreness will be gone.  It is a ritual of torture that I have enjoyed since my teens, and fortunately the sun has been a friend to my skin.  I feel better when I’m in the sun, and the rain does nothing but depress me.  Its getting very crowded here in Maui, it’s almost impossible to get a good morning run since the narrow ocean-side path is crowded with picture-takers, casual walkers, and families.  I should not have the sense of entitlement that I experience trying to maneuver around them, but it’s a sign that everyone is now coming here.  Once again, I’m baffled by how many people have Fridays off, and they all seem to be here enjoying the sunshine and surf.  As a youngster, and as a young family man, I would have never even thought of Maui as a vacation spot.  There must be a lot of wealthy families out there that can afford the expense of coming here to search for Easter eggs.  They were also all in line for ice cream last night.    Aloha for now.