Plenty of Time for Portland

Ken calls on Sunday night. He’s throwing a Super Bowl party this weekend and wants me to fly out for it on Friday. He talks in his happy Ken cadence as he logs onto Travelocity and prices flights. “Aww, Dude, we can do this. Under $500. That’s it, I’m booking the flight and you’re gonna come out here and party with us. I got thirty people coming over. That’s it. We’re gonna do it.” I wish I could put into words how much I would love to do just that. Put it all aside, get on that plane Friday morning, and go see one of the best friends I’ve ever had. And I love Portland. There are brew pubs, music, good food, great company. I’d finally get to meet Baby Ava who is one year old now. I’d get to watch the Super Bowl with people! But, sadly, I am on the wrong end of the pendulum swing this week. I’m back to worrying about everything and taking a break from living. I would have to arrange Em care for Friday and Monday. Liz is moving to a new store and new hours next week. $500 is a fortune to me right now. I could never let Ken front my ticket. I don’t want to spend two vacation days this early in the year. And…And…And. It’s a shame really. Seeing Ken, Paige, and Ava would give me a much needed recharge. I know that. And I know that my reasons for not going all have workable solutions. But it seems that being spontaneous takes so much Goddamn planning these days. That kind of takes the smile out of it.

And yet it occurs to me that only I could take a heartfelt invitation and turn it into a negative. O’ for the love of self-revelation. This is one of those things I’ve sincerely worked on for years now. And with minor setbacks (see above), I’ve made tremendous progress. I’m glad to have a friend who would even suggest such a weekend. And next year, you can bet I will go to his Super Bowl party. This year, though, I’m going to grill some bratwurst, ice down some beer, and watch the game with an enthused Emerson who will leap to his feet as he did all season long, raise his arms high above his head and scream, “GO, BAAAABBBBBYYYYY!!! Right, Daddy?” There’s really no better way to spend Super Bowl Sunday. There’s plenty of time for spontaneity. And there’s plenty of time for Portland. Right, Daddy? Right!