"The really happy man is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour."

Anonymous

Shortly after we got married, my wife got introduced to two of my favorite clichs:

• "Always remember. No matter where you go, there you are", and
• "I've got to be somewhere doing something."

She managed to put up with this nonsense for several years despite occasionally threatening to do me bodily harm. (She's Sicilian, you know. They're like that. At least that's what her family tells me.) It took a while, but she finally came to realize that I actually did live my life that way. When I said, "It's okay with me," or "whatever you want to do is fine", I meant it! I was going to be happy wherever I was, doing whatever I was doing. This was probably enforced by over twenty years of following orders in the army.

This situation endured for over 10 years of marriage.

A few weeks ago, we were visiting the Pensacola area where I grew up for a few days to case the joint. We were thinking about retiring back to my boyhood home. My wife is from Arizona originally, but has discovered the lure of trees, shade, Gulf beaches, and sea breezes. To put it simply, she's hooked.

While riding around the area, we got lost on a back road in Florida in a small town (I use the term loosely) near the Blackwater River. It could have been several years ago, and we saw several houses that were probably old when I was a boy (hint: I'm 61) and a few dogs who just didn't think that the thrill of chasing the car was worth the effort.

As we cruised along beneath stately old oaks, some with beards of moss, with the sunshine glancing off the river, I committed the gravest sin. I went down the wrong road. Now normally, this might inspire comments which might be construed as negative in nature, but on that day and in that place, there was only silence. I hastened to apologize, to which my wife replied with a slightly wistful sound to her voice, "We've got to be somewhere doing something, and I can't think of anywhere better to be than here, doing what we're doing."

Wow! A conversion is a wonderful thing to witness.

She still has relapses, but for the most part since returning home life has been a lot quieter and gentler. We all have to be somewhere doing something, and I am certainly glad that I'm wherever she is doing what we are doing.