Sandbox: Later in the Week

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As you can see, there’s been a major setback.  That’s 5 inches with more on the way tonight.  This is where we separate the Minnesotans from the boys . . . or some such thing.

I have been comforting these winter blues by watching old episodes of Hawaii Five-O.  Hawaii has been on my bucket list as long as I can remember.  My mom traveled there to meet my dad when he was stationed in Vietnam.  Their photos were in a big red picture book covered in flowers.  I studied those pictures looking at the beach and all those beautiful, strange flowers.  Hawaii was where it was at.

Thinking about it now as I watch H5O, I imagine it was a pretty interesting trip for my parents.  My mom grew up in rural Minnesota with only pictures in Life magazine or maybe National Geographic to show what the brand new state of Hawaii looked like.  My dad was probably just happy to get out of Vietnam for a few days.  I wonder if they search back in their retired people jaded traveler minds, they would remember how great the trip was — even if my mother did recently refer to it as boring ol’ Oahu.

I started at the beginning season of H5O on Netflix.  The year is 1968.  I suppose two years or so before my parents got there.  I’ve had a chance to study the opening credits now for 6-10 episodes and a section of the beginning troubled me.  My husband, as you know, is 10 years older and that much wiser.

“Brent,” said I.  “I don’t understand why at the beginning of H5O, there’s all these images of airplanes.”

“Lisa,” said he.  “It’s an international destination.  You have to travel in a jet to get there.”

So. So.

We have all become jaded travelers.  I was reminded as I talked to my sister this morning, that in my early marriage, we used a travel agent to book a hotel in Las Vegas.  We didn’t know where to stay.  Now I spend countless winter (and it is, apparently, still winter) hours planning vacations I may or may not take — all from the comfort of our kitchen.

So here’s to you, Jack Lord.  You can say, “Book ’em, Danno!  Two counts, murder one!”  all you want.  That’s still going to be up to the district attorney.  Meanwhile I will stick an umbrella in my Diet Dr. Pepper and pretend I’m on boring ol’ Oahu.

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