The Elephant In The Room

    From here on, the singular pronoun gets used. "I went there." "I did this." For me, it's a big step, as you can imagine. The first of many I intend on taking over the next three weeks. It's not "we," it's not Becky and me. It's I.

    I: me, first person, singular. Single. Alone, out there, on the high wire. By myself
i: in mathematics, it's an imaginary unit, meaning it doesn't really exist, and that strangely, suits me just fine.

    Aye-aye: yes, yup, okey dokey, in the affirmative. Agreement.

    Eye-eye: the dual headlamps, the pair of squishy organs that draws light into the body and asks the brain to interpret it, what do you think you see in front of you? What is staring back at you?

    As a symbol, the human eye stands for perception, knowledge, and insight. Divine providence and protection from evil. Both of those sound like good weapons to hold close on my travels.

    In ancient Egypt, which seems fitting, the Eye of Horus offers healing powers and good fortune. Two more tricks I'll put in my kit.

    So I go forth. Singular. Affirmative. Protected. Letting light in to interpret the path before me.
The grand experiment started in 2023, really, when I saw an ad on Facebook for a new Broadway musical based on "Back to the Future." I had always loved the time-traveling trilogy from the 1980s, and a big toe-tapping, song-belting musical sounded like a helluva fun evening. Roger Bart as Doc Brown? Yes, please. And I really wanted to go back to Broadway, like Becky and I had done over the years in this young century together, go back and be starstruck tourists who were savvy enough not to get swindled. We knew our way around midtown.

    I went to the show with an old college-theatre friend Nancy and her daughter Natalie who majored in Dance at Elon. We had a great time, but in the bookends of the trip, it was me alone, singular, affirmative. On the train, checking into the hotel, and on the back half, having breakfast in a little Greek diner on 6th Avenue (excellent corned beef hash, by the way) and returning alone on the train.

    I could travel alone, with "travel" bearing all the literal and figurative baggage that it requires. I learned that I could manage the baggage of both realms, the baggage in my hands as well as the baggage in my mind and heart. Becky, I confided to her, the excursions are now mine alone. Singular. Affirmative. Protected.

    In 2025, I traveled to the pay my respects to former President Jimmy Carter, lying in state in the U.S. Capitol. I returned in April to visit the National Zoo with a new friend, Anna. Now I'm about to embark on the biggest trip of my life, with more baggage and "baggage" than I've carried before. One baggage has wheels and a sturdy handle and will be checked through to Cairo. The other baggage will be much more the carry-on type, with the hope that it will lighten as I go.

    As I go.