As many of you know, Dennis is an incredible person. Deeply devoted to family and friends, he cherishes friendships and loves family with abandon. Dennis nurtures relationships, reaching out often to relatives and friends to check-in, chat, and arrange to get together. He is in his element connecting with people. When planning the trip, we made a list of family and friends we wanted to see along the way. Dennis reached out to the majority of them because he is comfortable doing that, and I am not.

Dennis’ family is originally from Lithuania. Dora Gerson, Dennis’ great-grandmother, left Lithuania to escape the pogroms at the end of the 19th century. Dora, an observant Orthodox Jew, followed the commandment to “be fruitful and multiply.” When her children began having their children, Dora was graced with 20 grandchildren. My father-in-law is one of them, and he has nineteen first cousins he grew up with in Houston, Texas. The remaining cousins are a tight bunch to this day. Over time, the cousins have migrated throughout the U.S. with many landing in Austin, Texas.

Moving to California in 1947, made seeing his cousins challenging, but Dad treasured those relationships and reached out to his cousins frequently. He also had terrific relationships with his siblings and spoke with them often when they were both still alive. I see my children’s sibling relationships are very similar to theirs, and it makes me grateful beyond words. To have your kids grow up to not only love each other but be friends as well, for me, is the peak of the parenting experience. Dad talks to his nieces and nephews frequently and is an involved Zadie (grandfather in Yiddish) with all of his grandchildren. He adores his great-granddaughter and continually tells us to enjoy the nachas (joy in Yiddish) of being a grandparent. At eighty-three years-old, Dad still speaks with surviving friends from his younger days. You can now appreciate where Dennis developed the importance of family and friends.

After saying “peace out” to Marfa, Texas, and not wanting to attract the attention of the Texas Sheriffs again, Dennis drove at a lawful speed towards Leakey, Texas. As you may recall, Leakey is the home of our older daughter’s parents-in-law, Patti and Terry. They are phenomenal hosts. Together, we ate, drank good wine, played games, drank more good wine, talked for hours, and drank good Old Fashioneds. Our first night there, I enjoyed not only a scrumptious dinner prepared by Patti and Terry but ten hours of serene sleep, courtesy the Marfa “idiot,” leaving me sleep-deprived.

Author and columnist Lois Wyse wrote, “Grandchildren are the dots that connect the lines from generation to generation.” Going a step further, I’ll say that the granddaughter the four of us share, connects this generation. Our granddaughter Adley loves for people to sing her “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” or as she calls it “Ro, Ro.” When Patti and Terry FaceTime with her, they sing the song. We do the same thing with Adley. So how do you blow a sixteen-months old mind? Have all four grandparents together FaceTiming and singing the magic song. We LOVED watching her run in circles, laughing, surprised by Grand-Mere, Grand-Pere, Papa, and Mimi. Adley’s joy is the dots that connect the four of us.

After the second night of blissful sleep, we said our good-byes to Patti and Terry, begging them to come to California and stay with us. Hopefully, they will join us, along with their daughter, son-in-law, and grandson, along with our kids and Adley, for a family trip to Disneyland in the next year or two. In the meantime, we look forward to seeing one another for Adley’s birthday in October.

Back on the road, already missing Patti and Terry, we proceeded towards Austin, the state capitol, and The Fairmont hotel. Oh, glorious day to stay at The Fairmont! Well, three days. Nice splurge. With our unpacking complete, we went in search of dinner in the bustling downtown area. We wanted to try some barbeque at some point while traversing Texas, but chose not to that night, eating a forgettable meal elsewhere.

The following day, Dennis spoke with Steve, his second cousin. Agreeing to meet for lunch near our hotel, Steve said cousin Irl would be joining us. Dennis had not seen Irl for fifty years. Steve chose a popular barbeque restaurant. Happy dance! With mouths salivating, we were anticipating some delicious Texas BBQ. Expectations can lead to disappointment. The BBQ was not exactly how we imagined it to be. However, the time spent with Irl and Steve made up for the let-down over the brisket, tri-tip, and chicken.

As the discussion about cousins, siblings, parents, distant relatives, and grandchildren filled the afternoon, the conversation turned to our trip. Steve and Irl inquired if we had a set itinerary, where we had been, and where our travels were taking us next. We shared there are only two set stops, Seattle for Passover and Washington, D.C. for the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) conference. Irl, who has a wickedly dry sense of humor, said he was going to AIPAC as well. Silently I doubted him. He didn’t seem like the AIPAC type, whom I imagine to be the politically conservative, button-downed type, but I was judging the book by its cover. Irl revealed attending the conference for roughly fifteen years with his two brothers, and AIPAC is an annual pilgrimage for them. In addition to the three brothers, Dennis and myself, there was another second cousin, Julia, also headed for the conference. Happily, plans were arranged to find one another at the conference for a second cousins’ mini-reunion.

During lunch, Dennis told Steve and Irl about a scheduled lunch the next day with some of his Dad’s first cousins and invited them to join us. Hugging each other good-bye, (this was before social distancing) with promises to see one another tomorrow, we headed off for an afternoon of sightseeing. Before we walked more than a few feet, Irl asked if we wanted to see his condo, which was a couple of blocks away. Sightseeing or connecting with family? We went to Irl’s place. As we walked along chatting away, Dennis asked Irl what he does now that he is retired. Irl said, “Nothing.” Laughing, Dennis replied, “No. Really.” Irl was insistent that he does nothing, absolutely nothing. He likes doing nothing. I am intrigued. Is Irl being funny or honest? I’ll figure it out one day.

Irl’s home has mega wow factor: stunning condo on the upper floors of the W Hotel in downtown Austin, and a spectacular view of the Texas Colorado River (yes, different Colorado River.) After spending time with Irl, getting to know him better, he quickly became one of my favorite of the cousins. Eventually, we headed back to our hotel for an afternoon of relaxation and a goodnight’s sleep in preparation to hit the ground running the next day.

Our packed Saturday in Austin included seeing the Texas State Capitol building, learning the history of Texas, and seeing more family. Visiting Rainey Street, an area popular with locals and tourists, was on the agenda as well. It has several blocks of bars and restaurants with the streets closed off to vehicles. After touring the capitol building, Dennis and I headed over to meet the cousins at The Domain, an open-air mall.

Right before we left for the trip, I began having problems with bursitis in my left leg. It flares up, and at times, walking can be painful and slow going. Being the kind soul he is, Dennis offered to drop me off near the restaurant. At first, I declined, but after shifting in my seat a little, I determined it to be a good idea. I gingerly exited the car, and Dennis left to park. While standing in front of the chosen restaurant, I noticed my favorite store about half a block away. I managed to hobble over to see what I could quickly grab and purchase. The parking gods ever in Dennis’s favor thwarted my plan. Finding me in the store, he looked at me askance, and I coyly replied how a shopping mall could rejuvenate me. After lunch, Dennis capitulated to my shopping request. I found him a “husband chair” in the store and proceed to heal myself through retail therapy.

To cap off a great day, especially the shopping part, we headed to Rainey Street for dinner and drinks. Our son-in-law, Warren, recommended Rainey Street to us as a fun place to people watch. What he didn’t realize, and we didn’t mention we would be there on a Saturday night. I kid you not, we brought the age average up by fifteen years. The place was teeming with college students, bachelor, and bachelorette parties on drinking binges. Not to be left out, we indulged as well. I fuzzily remember taking the photo in front of the phone booth, which is an indicator of my inebriation, as I do not like having my picture taken, but here I am all smiles. There is also a hazy recollection of running over to buy TWO bags of mini-donuts along with dipping sauces. That is the last thing I remember of Rainey Street.

Waking the next morning with a hangover and barely holding my s*** together, as my liver no longer functions like that of a twenty-five-year-old, Dennis asked me if I remembered the night before. Looking for clues, I found the donut remnants in our room, mostly uneaten.  Scanning the room didn’t trigger any additional memories of the previous night. Dennis is incredulous that after two drinks, okay four, I can blackout like that. I can only hope the phone booth picture is the most incriminating evidence of my exploits on Rainey Street. 

I wonder how I am going to survive Bourbon Street; however, that is further along on our trip. We have other places to see and more stories to tell before New Orleans.

To get a better feeling for this post, I will reveal three things about myself.  First, I am an introvert.  When engaging with new acquaintances, my anxiety kicks into supersonic speed, altogether skipping high gear.  Number two, I am a terrible sleeper and have been since childhood.  The slightest noise or movement can wake me.  Third, despite being an introvert, I will never back down from a fight when I feel a threat towards myself or my loved ones.

Dennis is comfortable striking up conversations with anyone he meets, and I, as you recently learned, am not.  Researching for places to visit during our trip, I googled for hours, eventually ending up with a sixty-five-item list of the top places to visit in the U.S.  Meanwhile, Dennis was talking to people about our trip, seeking recommendations of what to do and see. He suggested I do the same as we might end up with something off the proverbial beaten path. 

Shopping at a flower shop, the woman helping me had a southern inflection.  Striking up a conversation, I asked where she called home. She recounted driving across the country from home to L.A.  WHAT?!?!  I saw this as a sign to step out of my introvert self and ask what she thought was a must-see.  “Marfa, Texas,” she said.  She explained Marfa is a quirky artist colony, and the “Marfa Lights,” which some consider a supernatural occurrence (others think they are headlights in the distance.)  Another shopper in the store chimed in saying he had been there, and I should see the town.  Interesting.  Marfa had shown up on a couple of my searches, but I had dismissed it.  It moved to the top of my list of things to see.  Dennis was not enamored with Marfa saying it is out of our way.  Debating, I gave up on seeing Marfa as our trip will need lots of the c-word; compromise.

While in Tucson, we finalized plans to see our daughter’s parents-in-law in Leakey, Texas.  From our first meeting, it is a pleasure to know Patti and Terry.   They are warm, welcoming, and great hosts, extending an open invitation for us to come and see them   Last year, taking them up on their offer, we invited ourselves to their Leakey home (which is breathtaking inside and out) and thought we’d like seem them again during our trek through Texas.  Being big-hearted people, they welcomed us to stay with them for two nights.  There was a bonus to going to Leakey; Marfa was now on the way!

Tucson to Marfa is a 520-mile drive. It will most likely rank as one of the lengthiest drives we make.  Texas is a massive state with little scenery on a long trip.  Dennis received a tip he could drive 80 miles per hour in Texas, and the highway patrol wouldn’t bother him.  According to Dennis’ reasoning, if eighty mph is good, eighty-five mph is better to shorten the driving time to Marfa.  The Texas Sheriff did not agree with his logic.

As part of this trip experience, we try, when possible, to not book a hotel until we leave for the next place.  It gives us flexibility in where we go for the day.  After what felt like an endless drive, we reached Marfa, stopped for dinner, and started looking for hotels.  I found a nice hotel for $130 a night; our target price is $125 a night.  I also discovered the Riata Inn at $80 a night.  Dennis chose the Riata Inn because we were staying one night and wanted to use the extra $50 on a better hotel later in the trip.  Not my first choice, but hey, this trip is about compromises of all types. 

The Riata Inn turned out to be a motel, sign #1 of bad things to come.  We found the room key in a mailbox because the front desk was closed for the night, sign #2.  Once we found the room, it turned out to be a large room, more than adequate for a one-night stay, a good sign.  Climbing into bed and turning out the lights, I noticed the time was 11:16 p.m.  

Within minutes, Dennis fell asleep, and I laid awake, listening to a child crying and screaming.  Annoyed and exhausted, I managed to find some sympathy for the parents, put a pillow over my head, and fell asleep.  An hour later, I awoke to the sound of drilling.  It sounded like someone in the room next door was mounting bookshelves to the wall. The noise was persistent, keeping me awake, bad sign #3. Since the front desk was closed, there was no one I could complain to about the racket.  Somehow, I dozed off.

Once again, a disturbing noise disrupted my sleep.   It sounded like someone trying to break into our car parked right outside the door.  I quickly realized the person was trying to break into our room!  No more signs of bad things to come, this was it!!!  Thank goodness I am the lightest of sleepers.  I jumped out of bed screaming, ran to the window, ripped open the curtains to see a guy alternately jiggling our door handle, throwing himself against the door, and yelling for us to open the door.  Still screaming at him, I went into fight mode, preparing for him to break into the room, I kept yelling, using every expletive I knew (I know a lot), and banged on the window to get his attention.  Dennis came running over and threw himself against the door, telling me, “Your yelling is not helping the situation.”  WHAT?!?!?!  “My yelling just saved your a$$,” was my response.  

After escaping the Riata Inn, we ate breakfast in the restaurant of the $130-a-night gorgeous hotel I wanted to stay in initially.  We asked our server what to see and where the art galleries are located.  He brought over a woman who, we learned, was part of the town’s council.  She kindly gave us some recommendations but stated Mondays and Tuesdays (we were there on a Monday) are like Sundays for Marfa.  I momentarily considered banging my head on the table.  My Marfa dream turned out to be nothing but a nightmare!  No lights, no art galleries, no shopping.

We did follow her suggestions for visiting the Presidio County Courthouse, Marfa Bookstore, and USO building/visitor center.  During our stroll around the town, we learned the filming of the movie “Giant” took place in Marfa.  The town is proud of being the movie set for “Giant” with memorabilia abundantly displayed and available for purchase. I am mildly embarrassed to say I have never seen the movie or read the book, so I bought a copy of the book to read during our cross-country excursion.   

Dennis and I noticed the people in Marfa were warm, friendly, and welcoming.  Reflecting on our interactions with people outside of California, the further east we drive, people become nicer.  I am not sure if it is because we are a novelty to them, we are less stressed without day-to-day demands, making us kinder, or if L.A. is an unfriendly city.   We’ll keep driving and exploring and let you know what we think in a couple of states.

Our conversation when preparing for the next leg of our adventure went something like this: Me: Here is something that looks interesting to visit, and it’s near Saguaro National Park. Dennis: What is it? Me: Not sure. It’s called Biosphere 2. Have you heard of it? Dennis: Yeah, I think it was an experiment that did not go well. Me: Why is it called Biosphere 2, and what happened to Biosphere 1? Dennis: Not sure.

During our tour, we learned Biosphere 2, as it duplicates the major climates of the original biosphere, Earth (ohhh, we get it!)  Several adjectives used to describe Biosphere 2: impressive, breathtaking, otherworldly, unique, beautiful, futuristic, innovative, and failure.  A failure?  Yes.  The first Biosphere 2 experiment is regarded as a failure by some within the scientific community.  A second attempt at replicating the first experiment ended after six months, not the planned two years.

Conceptualized in 1984 with construction completed in 1991, the purpose of Biosphere 2 was to create a self-contained ecosystem able to sustain seven people for two years.  Hermetically sealed into the biosphere were seven scientists with different specialties.  Included in the group, a physician collected data on the implications of said experiment on the other participants.  Problems emerged quickly.  They were becoming more focused on food production, harvesting, and other necessities to survive, leaving little time to engage in scientific pursuits.  Miscalculation of oxygen levels made it essential to pump extra oxygen into the biosphere. One scientist chopped the tip of her finger off and left for six hours to receive medical attention.  Several scientists observing the experiment complained the two incidents broke the seal which, voided the research, making it a failure.  

Today Biosphere 2 is used strictly for non-human research. The controlled environment is used to understand climate change and for the betterment of our planet.  Advanced research into farming systems, using scant amounts of water and solar panels in various ways, helps to address hunger due to global food shortages.  Applying knowledge and information gathered from previous experiments, scientists are creating self-sustaining gardens for the prospects of living in space for extended periods.  

Our day at Biosphere 2 included three tours, so we spent the better part of a day there.  There was an overlapping of some information by the guides, however, it did not detract from the experience. In our opinion, this is a must-see attraction.

Watching the Super Bowl was our next must-do activity.  Rushing back to the hotel, changing our clothes, and walking to a nearby sports bar, we snagged one of the last tables available.  Despite being in a room full of people, we felt lonely.  For the last ten years, we have thrown a Super Bowl party.  We missed sharing the experience with family and friends.  Bummed over the 49ers defeat, we were excited for our first stop in the state of Texas. We’ll call the next episode, “The Marfa Experience.”

Our trip across America is to evaluate and resolve some important lifestyle decisions we are facing. While we grapple with those choices, we are also crossing items off of our bucket list.

• Drive across the country in an RV. Okay, so it turned out to be an SUV but still meets the intended goal.
• Visit as many states as possible.
• Attend the AIPAC (The American Israel Public Affairs Committee) conference in Washington, D.C.
• See as many national parks as feasible, taking weather into account, especially in the northern parts of the country.

Saguaro National Park was our first check-off for visiting national parks. Located in the Sonoran Desert, this park encompasses large areas of the southwestern U.S. and northwestern Mexico. Surrounding Tucson, Saguaro National Park naturally separates into an eastern section and a western section. Due to our predetermined route, we chose to view the westerly side. It did not disappoint.

Saguaros are a variety of cactus we often see depicted as a three-pronged plant. According to a docent at the visitor center, the indigenous people of Arizona named them “saguaro” as the word means “people.” Probably a fabrication but fits our perception when we look at them.

Western saguaros can grow to about forty feet tall, however, these plants in the eastern part can be up to sixty feet tall. Saguaros start as a single column but start adding “arms” at about seventy-five years of age. The number and shape of the arms vary from cactus to cactus. The average life span of a saguaro is about one hundred and fifty years. Once the process of decomposing starts, the pulp of the saguaro takes on a woody texture. Traditionally, longer pieces of a dead saguaro are tied together and used to pick the blooms which grow once a year. The inside fruit is red, sweet, and used for making syrups and wines used by local indigenous people.

Saguaros are not the only type of cactus in the park. There are over thirty-two varieties of succulents, too many to document with pictures in this post. If you have the opportunity to visit Saguaro National Park, do so. We were not disappointed, and we think you won’t be either.

Our next adventure: Biosphere 2 and the Super Bowl

After a month of furious scrambling to get ready for the trip (think tax extensions, cat supplies, arranging for house sitters), we were prepared to hit the road.  How does one pack for a three-month excursion?  We each devised a packing system because taking all the luggage into a hotel nightly is cumbersome .  Between us, we had two large suitcases, four carry-on sized suitcases, four duffel bags, a backpack, an ice chest, and one computer case.  Additionally, we had boxes and bags of snacks, maps (Dennis loves paper maps), laundry detergent, medications, etc., etc. Thankfully Dennis’ brother switched cars with us, our Tesla, for his SUV so we could manage all of our stuff.

Typically when going on a road trip, we set a departure time goal, which we never make in time.  This trip was different.  We set our leave time at 10:00 a.m.  We managed to be ready for the road by 9:30 a.m.  Good omen!  After saying good-bye to my kitties (of course I was sobbing) and the house sitters, we climbed in the car and took off on our dream adventure.   

We drove 395 miles that first day reaching Tempe, Arizona by early evening.  One of the first things I noticed was that my packing system needed reworking.  I was taking too many bags in to the hotel.  After dragging everything, we checked into our first IHG hotel and had drinks in our room to celebrate.  Yes, we brought alcohol, cheese, and crackers with us; have to stretch that food budget! 

Friday morning, we got up, had breakfast, and went to visit Goldfield Ghost Town.  We recalled once we were there that 99% of ghost towns are tourist traps, inhabited not by ghosts but full of retailers hawking overpriced souvenirs.  A benefit of going to the ghost town was seeing “Suspicion Mountain.”  It was named that by the indigenous inhabitants because of all the people who died there searching for gold.  Unfortunately, amateur climbers still try to find the gold mine losing their lives due to being unprepared for fluctuating temperatures and natural predators.

After that outing, we visited the Tempe History Museum.  There are four large exhibits: the start of the town of Tempe, desert plants and life, history of the contributions African Americans made in Tempe, and of course, the history of Arizona State University.  Sun Devils pride tuns deep in Arizona!

Our long day exploring ended with dinner and margaritas at a local Mexican restaurant and packing up for the drive to Phoenix, Arizona, and the Saguaro National Park.

After deciding we were ready for a three-month motorhome excursion, our next step was to talk with other people to see if they had any experience with undertaking a journey like ours.   Many told us while they had not done this, and it is a dream of theirs.  What we learned from these discussions is that driving across the country in a motorhome is a romanticized idea, and they nor we had any real idea what this kind of adventure entails.    

Being the planner that he is, Dennis suggested we rent a motorhome for a week and take it on a trial run.  VERY GOOD IDEA!  He researched motorhome rental agencies and found one not too far from us.  On a Saturday, we trekked out there and learned all about class C and A motorhomes in one afternoon.  The class C motorhome is the “Winnebago” style body with one of the beds positioned over the cab.  Class A is more of a bus style body with a flat front.  No distinctive license is required to drive the class A motorhome.   As most of you know, Dennis is six feet tall, with the majority of his height in his legs.  After sitting behind the steering wheel of both types of motorhomes, he ultimately chose the class A because he fit comfortably in the driver’s seat. There is a downside to the decision. The class A is much bigger, the smallest one we could rent was a thirty-footer.  The average sedan is 14.5 feet long and five feet high; the Class A we rented was 30 feet long and 13 feet tall.  

The week of Christmas, we packed up the motorhome out and headed out for our first stop in Santa Margarita for three nights and the rest of the time at Pacific Dunes near Pismo Beach.  Our intentions were to leave early in the morning and arrive at the campsite before nightfall.  We had several starts and stops (buying towels I forgot to pack, gassing up the motorhome, stopping to eat), putting us far behind schedule.  Also, a 30-foot motorhome does not go very fast!  

Despite our best efforts, we arrived at the campsite after dark.  Once parked, we hooked up the water and sewage lines and pulled the lever as Margo, the motorhome agency contact person, had instructed.  Waste from a motorhome is divided into two tanks; gray water from the shower and sinks and black water from the toilet.  The black and gray water tanks then empty to the sewage hook-up. It was difficult connecting all the hosepipes in the dark, but we did it and felt like real “motorhomers.” 

The next morning we awoke and peeked outside to see what we couldn’t in the dark.  We saw a typical campground and an emu named Kevin.  Kevin is a camp attraction during the busy camping season.  After breakfast we explored the campground and met Katie Ann grounds monitor, and learned we were the only people camping there (cue the horror movie music!)  Katie Ann was very sweet, gave us a complimentary bundle of firewood, and inquired about how our sewage hook-up went.   After explaining what we did, she advised to keep the black hose lever closed and to open it every three days to create pressure and help push all the waste out.  Back at the motorhome we followed her advice.

One of the fun features of the motorhome is a smart pad where we could check the status of  the many amenities on board including the gray and black water tanks.  On Christmas eve Dennis noticed the black water tank filling up much faster than it should have, registering at 50% full.  One hundred percent means you are in deep…  We called Margo and got no response from her.  She finally responded the day after Christmas, about 36 hours after our initial call.  By this time the tank monitor read 99% full! She told us we must have forgot to pull the lever needed to empty the tanks.  We insisted the lever had indeed been pulled correctly.  She then asked if we had pulled the lever on the other side of the motorhome.  “What lever?” we asked. Margo had forgotten to tell us about an additional lever to pull when hooking up the hoses.  Once the lever was pulled the black water tank went from 99% to 0%.  Disaster averted!  

While we agreed the experiment was a success, there were pros and cons to consider before renting a home on wheels.

Pros:

1. Traveling in comfort (there is tons of space in a 30’ motorhome with just two people).

2. The convenience of always having a bathroom.

3. The ability to stop and pull over any time to eat, rest, or camp when the mood struck us.

4. The emotional closeness the experience of a motorhome created for us.

Cons:

1. The motorhome is cumbersome and driving would be at a slower pace.

2. Dennis would have to do all of the driving.

3. We would lose some mobility.  There are places you cannot get to with a motorhome.

4. Hooking and unhooking to sewage lines is a pain.

5. The supposed “Queen-sized” bed was too short even for me.

After considering the pros and cons, we cast secret ballots (okay, it is corny with only two voters) and by unanimous decision, nixed the motorhome in favor of renting an SUV and staying at hotels along the way.  We enjoyed our motorhome trial run and plan on doing another motorhome trip to a national park in the future.  Next post: “On the Road.”

The Unexpected Gap Year:  How it happened

Dennis and I have had several significant life changes in the last five years; some good, some great, and some not so good.  The good: our son graduated college making us empty nesters, and Dennis helped merge PDU with another trophy company.  The great: our two daughters got married, giving us two sons-in-law we love dearly, became grandparents for the first time (it is everything other grandparents tell you and more), and I achieved my goal of obtaining a master’s degree in social work. The not so good: the family business which Dennis had been running for several years was struggling to stay afloat since the recession.  No one wanted trophies or plaques during the recession, preferring instead, cash prizes.  Also, trophies had somehow become an enemy of children’s healthy social/emotional development.

Two days before our younger daughter’s wedding, Dennis and one of his former competitors signed a deal to merge the two struggling companies to make one strong entity.  A happier person you have never seen.  The weight of running the company full time had fallen off his shoulders, and there would be someone to help recreate the company, the proverbial phoenix. 

Fast forward two years, things did not go as planned; we believed Dennis had a five-year contract before his employment ran out.  There was plenty of time to plan our future.  To our surprise, the other partner in the company decided to buy out the entire families’ interest; we and all other family members would no longer be an owner or employed.  We had not expected this in the least.  To make matters worse, I had just given my notice to leave a job that was not what I had expected it to be.  We would be without jobs at the same time.  Panic ran cold through our blood, mine more so than Dennis’.  

Dennis belonged to a professional group, Vistage, that in a nutshell, a support group for CEOs.  He took his concerns to the group and received invaluable advice.  Dennis met one-on-one with the leader of the group several times.  His suggestions to Dennis were to not rush into the next job, take some time to think about what he wanted to do for a living (I nixed mail carrier) and take time to figure out what we want to do as a couple.  He suggested that since we were both unemployed and had enough savings to live on for a year, why not do something we had always dreamed of, a bucket item list. For us, that is traveling across the country in a motorhome.  Our excitement grew as we recalled how, as a young couple, it was something we looked forward to doing in retirement.  Together we decided to take a gap year from work, drive across the country in a motorhome, and plan the next phase of our lives. 

The purpose of our blog is to journal our experiences on this trip, record our impressions of people, and the social norms and values that we experience differently in Los Angeles.