BLUE HARBOR SCARF WORLD TOUR

Ok, not a column, but rather a journey. Not in that new-agey fake way, an actual trip. My good friend and talented artist Stephanie Krauss Verdun (http://www.stephaniekraussverdun.com/prints/6g2i3lbzfx4qi3gcibtx71lpzkbwb6) is literally off-the-hook talented. She turned some of her works into scarves and the one I like best is from her work, "Blue Harbor Kayak." It's amazing, I swear I wear it everywhere. And it's always noticed and complimented. So, recently, I took it on a Mediterranean cruise through Greece and Italy. What else would I wear? Check out how a scarf can go anywhere you want to go. Even if you never leave home.

The thing about this scarf is you can do anything with it. A cape, over the shoulders, head wrap, infinity, you name it. I stink at this, I can barely tie my shoes, so I'm not artsy with scarves, but it doesn't matter, this looks beautiful no matter what.

Here are a few of the places I took it. It made my trip so much more beautiful to stand by blue water with a piece of home.

The Artist!

The scarf!

As we left Civitavecchia, I was afraid it would blow away, it was so light and airy

In Greece, it's often required to cover your head in Orthodox churches, so I did. A woman stopped me, touched it and said, "Beautiful blue water, like our Aegean Sea"

On the balcony, as we arrive in Santorini, a Greek island accessible from our ship by tender. It was perfect for balcony days. Which were, essentially, every day. 

What's a little wind?

Who doesn't love a little balcony beverage? I've heard direct sun can interfere with how wine tastes. Blue Harbor scarf to the rescue!

I really did do more than drink and drape myself in this gorgeous scarf, but these are some of the highlights. A last toast and it was time to come home. Where is your #BlueHarbor?

Road Rage, A Rant and a Request

"Like all bad drivers, he thought he was the best driver in the world."

---Rebecca West

Don't we all feel like we are good drivers? Maybe not the best driver in the whole world, but would any of us even get behind the wheel if we thought we were dangerous? That's often the problem; our perception of who we are, what we are able to do and how we look doing it is not always accurate. I thought I was rocking a holiday scarf at a party once, but as it turned out, it was a table runner and my hostess had the same one on her sideboard. Fashion icon that I am, I rolled with it, but it was inwardly mortifying. Also, I was never asked back, shocker, right?

Thinking up topics for this column can be tough, but lucky me, there are always suggestions from friends, colleagues, and randos in the supermarket I don't know that well, so there's no shortage of material. One recurring suggestion is always about drivers, road rage, entitlement, and safety. "Why don't you write about how awful the driving is in town?" is a common theme. To which my answer is, "There could be a column about that in the paper every week." Actually, come to think of it, there is; we call it the "Police Log." 

Normally I am not one to tell other people how to act, what to think, or how to feel; it's one of the rules. It's getting broken, right now. If we don't, and I mean immediately, get with the program on not racing around town like a bunch of overprivileged, NASCAR wannabes, someone is going to die. Wait, let me clarify; someone ELSE is going to die because we've already lost a few someones to accidents. There was a sticker made up for it and everything though, so problem solved, right? Nope, not even close.

Road rage is at epic levels too, along with the driving habits. No one is immune; I'd be lying if I said there had never been a bird-like gesture come out of my car. I've leaned on my horn and thought up some colorful phrases that, once or twice, were in my out-loud voice. However, it was never because the driver in front of me slowed down to let a kid cross the street. It was never because someone stopped at a yellow light so as not to gridlock an intersection. Think about all the hours we spend in our cars. We have all seen it; many of us have behaved badly a time or two, but it's gotten way out of control. On what planet is it acceptable for someone to tailgate another driver while screaming threats of bodily harm? Why would anyone think it's funny to play chicken in traffic, and point and laugh when they scare the hell out of some driver? What happens in someone's head to make them roar through a stop sign, or blow by a crossing guard who is literally blocking children with her body? Seriously, can we all just calm down a little?

It would be easy to point fingers and say, "These teen drivers today!" or "Why is grandma still driving if she can't keep up?" It's not only teens though, or older drivers, or men, or women. It's all of us, either behaving like gnats on crack behind the wheel or letting our anger and frustration turn a trip to the post office into an episode of Parking Wars. For what? Getting somewhere a few seconds sooner? Feeling an adrenaline rush? Owning the road? What makes us take these risky maneuvers? My car might be five years old, with a few dents and dings, but I need it and I enjoy driving it, why would I not want to make sure nothing happens to it? Not to mention, that while I might not like every person I see on the road, I also don't want to run them over. Usually, anyway, and so far, so good.

Avoiding a crash is always my goal and while it might sound preachy, it should be everyone's goal. So get with it people. Wear your seatbelts, don't drive on the sidewalk, stop at stop signs, go when it's your turn, and a person in a crosswalk is not a challenge to beat the light. We're all either someone's parent, child, sibling, friend or spouse. Who wants to be the person that gets an awful call from the police? Who wants to be the reason for that call? No one. As my father would (and did, quite often) say, "Cut the crap, you're being a jerk and I'm not having it." Wording it more kindly? Please be careful out there. Many of you annoy me, and I likely do the same to many of you, but let's all stay sane and safe. OK, I'll settle for safe. Thank you for listening.

My Bags Are (Almost) Packed

“My bags are packed; I’m ready to go.”

---John Denver

OK, my bags are not quite packed, but I am deep in the planning stages of my next trip. The dog will be dealt with, and the house will be occupied because you can’t leave a snorty pug in charge of the mail. There are some tentative reservations for places I might want to see and tours I might want to take, but much is still undecided. 

I am happiest when I am planning a trip, and while the details are not quite set in stone yet for the next voyage, it’s starting to come together. It occurred to me that other than one quick weekend getaway to Maryland (beer, steamed crabs and good times with good people) there has been no vacation on my calendar for two solid years. Yes, a first world problem, and I don’t mean to whine, but that is the longest stretch of time without a trip that I can remember. New rule: Never go that long without a fun trip to someplace far away. Honestly, for me, going away brings me back to everything that matters.

Do you know what isn’t fun about it? Packing. Packing light is a goal for me, if not always a reality. One of the biggest struggles in my life is what to do with all the stuff. There’s a comedy routine by George Carlin that talks about this, and he says, essentially, that life is just about getting a house, so you have a place to keep your stuff, while you go out and work to buy more stuff. He’s not wrong. Marie Kondo might be a magical tidying up wizard, but she’d run away shrieking in fear if she saw my house. The next trip will require some really creative packing skills because of airline regulations for luggage. Sure, there’s always the option to check a bag, but that’s not my way. Carry on is the only way to fly. The plane lands, and you’re good to go, without having to wander around a spinning metal conveyor belt and wrestle your Samsonite onto some wobbly-wheeled cart.

 

My problem is “Just in case” syndrome. If you’re going somewhere that you haven’t ever been, how can you possibly figure out what to bring? Sure, the season and region matter, because if it’s cold, you bring warm clothes; if it’s a beach or tropical trip, you pack swim gear and sunscreen. That’s very general, though. There’s so much else to consider. How long the journey is, what kinds of activities there will be, is it casual or formal or somewhere in the middle? Does the hotel have a hairdryer? Oh, and toiletries. God forbid you pack 3.6 ounces of shampoo or a tube of toothpaste that’s 4.2 ounces. That could get you sent to luggage jail. The TSA rules say you can only take 3.4 ounces of liquids.  What exactly does gel deodorant fall on the spectrum of legal luggage? A liquid, a solid, or something else entirely? Sure, you might be able to buy supplies when you get to your destination, but who wants to hit up a CVS on vacation?

Fashion is something I struggle with, but still, it’s a good thing to be prepared, if not precisely on-trend. I was talking with a friend who spent his career in the military. He has been deployed all over the world, sometimes with almost no notice. His closet held a personal mobility bag that had to be ready to go at all times. Then there were A bags, B bags, etc. depending on the mission. He told me he could pack everything he needed for a six-month stint overseas into a duffle bag, and it would take 10 minutes. Ya, well, big whoop, I’m willing to bet he wore the same outfit every day, you know, a uniform?  He likely never needed to take a pair of trendy beaded sandals for the beach, sneakers for comfort and a little strapless number just for fun. Somehow, I can’t picture him needing a black camisole to go under a silk blouse, two hairbrushes, and three kinds of moisturizer. 

My son is an Eagle Scout; he’s all about being prepared for anything. Still, he hiked for ten days in New Mexico with a backpack and a canteen. My mother, a Navy veteran, would take off to parts unknown, usually on a whim and could do with just a small weekend bag, even if she was going for a month. Clearly, the packing light gene skipped a generation.

Whatever winds up in my suitcase on the way out, I know that coming back, I will carry memories of adventures, a few tacky souvenirs, and a renewed outlook on life. Travel has a way of making that happen, even if all you bring with you is a change of underwear and some clean socks. Here’s to packing a bag and being ready to go. Now, to figure out plane tickets and the rest; stay tuned.