I love small towns in the summer. They are the places where almost every neighbor gathers for the local corn feed in support of the fire department or attends the church social where they connect to listen to good and even occasionally bad music. They buy a donated pie or other baked goods and more often than not drink a beer or five. It is there where you will see the old couple dancing to every song and the local young people carefully jockeying for an opportunity to speak to the person who catches their eye. It’s where you experience the local farmer bachelor who serves the world best by remaining that way – both as a farmer and bachelor.
Recently, my spouse and I went to the local church celebration the next town over. The event was their summer celebration, which featured many local polka bands, a pork dinner with dumplings and the preferred light beer all my neighbors drink. I have yet to acquire a taste for it, but I drink it to support the church. Honest!
We don’t attend that church, but many of our neighbors do, and one of them performs in a band that was playing there, so we wanted to take in the music and just spend a summer Sunday afternoon relaxing and enjoying his talent. The town is incredibly small, perhaps less than 300 residents and boasts only a Catholic Church and a Bar. My son refers to this as “The perfect town”.
It may not come as a surprise, but I am known to chat up the person sitting next to me, a habit I have developed from many years of being nosy.
When I sat down and began my introduction, Dorothy introduced herself as a widow. It was a title I could tell she had a hard time with yet had been one for almost 6 years. The pain however was still fresh. She leaned into my wife and I to talk, careful that her words would drown out the music we were all listening too.
“Retire young. Don’t wait until 67 or 68 or whatever they tell you. Retire and live within your means and go on adventures. Don’t look back”. She looked sad as she pushed out the words.
As she spoke, I realized that her dearly departed and I shared a similar view of life. One where you encourage a spur of the moment trip or just point yourself to a direction and set your sails.
I have been told by more than a few people that what I do is unique. The fact that I might come home on a Friday and tell my wife, “Get packed, we are leaving at 6 am”. I am only now beginning to understand this is not normal. My wife always asks where we are going and my answer is almost always the same. “Do you always have fun on our trips?” (She does). “Pack and be ready” I smile as I grab my already packed bag.
As Dorothy spoke to us, I felt bad for her, certainly in part because of the loss of her loved one, but perhaps more so the loss of adventures she and her husband enjoyed. I hope if I leave any impression behind by this writing it is this: Don’t rely on others to set your sail, learn to set your own. Adventure starts within. If you can find an adventure partner, even better.
Just as Dorothy said to us “Go on adventures and don’t look back”.
Our adventures always relax us and educate us. They give is perspective, sometimes how others live better than us, but more often than not, how lucky we really are to be healthy, active and alive.
Take the time to explore, to open your mind. Don’t be afraid to shuck responsibility once in a while to just be curious. Most of all, enjoy this incredibly short time we are placed on this planet to do something awesome. I promise you will never regret it.
The Mirror has two faces 
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