It was a very good year 1969 Pre-yuppie Still sixties Easy rider No "chill" yet, big or otherwise We thought that we could re-invent the world Make a difference That we could change the order of things Not become part of some blue jean fashion revival Nostalgically chic Some twenty or forty years later Helping sell bell bottoms and ties dies on Telegraph Avenue and Rodeo Drive Before JFK, RFK, and MLK were Drives, Airports, and holidays When they were just fallen leaders, grieved for by our nation Things weren't so squeak
Travels with Wolfie, Prologue
Prologue Spring, 1970 There was a time when I drove up and down this country like it was one big map [caption id="attachment_37876" align="alignnone" width="300"] Not much different, but VERY different, in 1970[/caption] From New York City to the Florida Keys From Selma and Montgomery To Hibbing and Duluth From the Atlantic to the Pacific From the Blue Ridge Parkway to Highway 61 [caption id="attachment_37877" align="alignnone" width="239"] Highway 61, Pr
Edinburgh, 1988, Chapter 1, A Dream Come True
It's August, 1988. I'm almost 41 years old and I'm living in white bread Santa Monica, waiting for a black stretch limousine to pick me up to take me to LAX. It's the first, and probably the only, limousine I will ever take in my life, and in less than 12 hours, I will be in Edinburgh, capital of proud, tartan Scotland, and home to the largest arts festival in the world. Founded in 1947, the same year I was born, the Edinburgh Festival and the even larger Festival Fringe hosts them all: theater, dance, jazz, tv, folk music, comedy, all the aural and moving arts. For three weeks every year,
“Servas”, an Open Door to Travel the Lonely Planet… for Free!
"Servas" is an Esperanto word that means something like "open doors." It's the best translation we have. And Servas.org is an international non-profit organization "dedicated to world peace through cultural exchange." What exactly does that mean for members? Well, long before there were Airbnb or Couchsurfing, I was able to travel the lonely planet for free by staying with voluntary Servas hosts around the world. I have stayed in Servas homes in England, France, Italy, Israel, Peru, Mexico, and all over Scandinavia since 1988. For two nights in each home, as I said, for free! And I was alw
Bali, 2014: Chapter 1, Another Leap into the Indonesian Void
October 19, 2014 Los Angeles, California Every time I go on a long trip overseas, say for a month or more, I get really anxious. I know it has to do with letting go... of routine, and hurling myself into the unknown cosmos. Even when I've been there before. And own a home where I'm going. What right do I have to complain, be anxious, right? Still.... I'm afraid! That I'll forget something (I will), afraid I'll get sick (maybe) and not have the right meds in the 3rd world (who knows?). I'm afraid of not knowing. Afraid I'll be bored. Afraid I'll fight with my wife. Not entertain th
Bali, 2014: Chapter 2, 9 Lives and Letting Go in My Banana Field
October 21, 2014 Mimba Village, near Padangbai, Bali, Indonesia The immediate reward of travel is perspective and being forced to let go. Don't learn quickly and BOOM! You're down. It didn't take me more than 60 seconds on my freedom-loving motorbike to - crash and hit the dirt road. Again! Just like last time, 2 years ago. When I had a head on collision. Ok, this time it wasn't head on; just a hop on the bike 5 minutes after arriving at the very remote rural villa in the dark, after a 22 hour flight (left Sunday night, arrived Tuesday afternoon, losing 15 hours across the in
Bali, 2014, Chapter 3, “Percaya”
October 27, 2014 Padangbai, Bali, Indonesia There is a word in Bahasa Indonesia, my wife's native language, for "trust". It's "percaya" (pronounced "perchaya"). It's a beautiful, complicated, difficult word. Beautiful because it means that you invest your faith and belief in someone other than yourself. Complicated because it involves a letting go of control, a risk, and a reliance on, once again, someone other than yourself; you could, and probably will, at times, be hurt and disappointed. And difficult because it can be painful to take such a blind, or educated, leap of faith in
Bali, 2014: Chapter 4, Greetings from the Island of the Gods
October, 2014 Padangbai, Bali, Indonesia It is so simple and beautiful where I am in the middle of a banana & coconut tree field. Roosters crowing, cows mooing, dogs barking... the slowness of rural village life. Nothing to do. Quite shocking. But somehow, I just love it. Sure, I am connected by occasional internet, cell phone, and my iPad, but even that feels like a contradiction. Because I am living in between 2 cultures, 2 different ways of life. No tourists where I am when I am here, yet I am bringing tourists here with Airbnb. Am I a cultural criminal, bringing modernity
Bali, 2014: Chapter 5, Notes from the 3rd World
Oct 28, 2014 Padangbai, Bali, Indonesia Two things don't matter here in Padangbai. 1- America doesn't matter. Uh huh. You heard me right. Nobody thinks or talks about it here. It's not the center of the universe. It doesn't define the conversation. It's some place far away. "Where you from, Tru-les?" "Cal-eefornia. Los Angeles." "Ameri-ca?" Yes." "Far away." "Yes, far away." That's what Kedek and I said to each other this morning. In English. It was true. Very "far away". Approximately, "half way around the world". About 13 thousand miles, as the crow flies. Where there are
Bali, 2014: Chapter 6, Savoring Time in My Banana Field
November 4, 2014 Padangbai, Bali, Indonesia It's very strange to be in one place for so long. It certainly doesn't happen in LA. We drive drive drive. Go go go. How many trips a day? But here, at the villa in the middle of the eternal coconut and banana field, I find there's no place to go. Nothing to do. What for? I'm already here. Content. Cooking, sleeping, waking, writing, walking meditation in the warm, turquoise overflow pool (that doesn't work sometimes). I mean, just walking improvisationally in the pool, 10 times a day. C'mon, it's really hot here. Arranging fallen frangipa