Time to Hit the Road Again

Enough hibernation already!

Humanity is doomed to vacillate between distress and boredom, as the German philosopher Schopenhauer said. My poor Mexican friends scoff at invitations to go camping, because they've spent nearly all their lives trying to stop camping. My rich American friends constantly search for more extreme sports, because they need a thrill in their vaccinated, seat-belted, health-insured lives. I also hunger for tranquility when stressed and for stimulation when stuck in routine. Such is life on earth.

Perfection gets boring!

Thus, I've recently maxxed out on local coffee in sunny cafes, strolls in an iguana-filled rainforest, and jamon serrano with red wine on the beach at sunset. (No, really, sympathy cards are unnecessary. I'll get through this tedious phase in my life.) Vacation time! This month, I'm stuffing the backpack, donning the boots, grabbing the passport, and hitting the road. Where am I going? I'm keeping that information more secure than a Pakistani informant's address on Hillary Clinton's server.

Romantic Getaway Time!

However, I will be posting dispatches from another hemisphere in the very near future. Let the huge suspense of wondering where Lyn's next post will emerge from - not his pants zipper - offer enough stimulation to keep you from paying real cash money for someone to dress you up in bright orange overalls, attach you to a fraying rubber band, and push you off a bridge. If you really wanna die, go out with a bang for a good cause. Dress up like a camel, put a grenade in your ass, and wink at some Islamic terrorists. I only say Islamic terrorists because there are so few Buddhist terrorists - and so few yak costumes.