Farewelling

All of those friends and family who were secretly wishing me to be swallowed by a shark during my stay in tropical paradise for sending out daily reminders of said paradise can rest easy. I’m back in the freezer. It’s interesting to be aboard a plane filled with people returning from Panama when they look outside and see the baggage handers dancing to stay warm while bundled up to handle single digit temperatures. It was a collective mental gasp akin to Dorothy’s famous line about Oz. We were certainly not in Panama anymore.

Wife and I on our Last Walk in from the Beach

The last couple days flew by as we finally and very regretfully decamped from the Las Lajas condo. We spent Saturday night in David at my mother in law’s house except for the time we were at my wife’s brother’s house to watch the Patriots. I loved watching the game with my brother in law while savoring my last few Panamanian beers and a resounding playoff win by Brady and company.

Wife Waving from our Condo Balcony

The flights back were perfect except predictably I wasn’t offered the upgrade that I was for both flights heading down. The toughest part of leaving Panama though wasn’t the weather or the condo – it was leaving that little sprite who makes my life so interesting and complete – my Favorite Panamanian. Having the entire condo complex to ourselves for most of our stay confirmed we still kind of like hanging out together. It’s weird that being separated from each other which has been a literal fact for most of our marriage, due mainly to the Army’s proclivity to send me interesting places, has become geometrically harder as we get older.

Getting into our Car While Being Photobombed by the Caretaker
We've Kind of Adopted him

Shortly after landing I also learned that the blowhard Steelers had lost their playoff game which warmed me up significantly thinking of the very unpleasant Steeler fans who were so condescending to Keene Friend and I when we visited the Pittsburgh Roommate a couple years ago. As usual the Steelers, in what has become their modus operandi, talked the talk (ad nauseam) but failed to walk the walk. One of the big reasons one of my first calls upon returning home was to Keene Friend to enjoy it together. Waking up this morning in a very empty house was more disconcerting than usual. I used to take a bit of self-indulgent pride in looking out the back window to see the terraces I’ve built over that past couple years. I now realize they pale in comparison to the pounding Pacific surf at Las Lajas which I woke up over the past couple weeks.

The Bad Cinema project count will remain at #88 out of 100, as I didn’t bring any of them with me.