- July 7th, 2011
Every time I go on “vacation” I feel like a jackhammer pummels the buttresses of my known world and shakes loose the filaments that fetter my identity to Seattle, my career, and the choices I have made in life that make me who I am. I put “vacation” in quotes because I can’t remember the last time I had a real one. Every time I hitch a ride in a plane, train or automobile of late, the agenda eclipses the pleasure.
Is the camera battery charged and the memory card depleted of photos of goat cheese dappled by midsummer light? Because god forbid I should forget to photograph every wind turbine and plate of chili along the way in case I choose to feature something. Are the business cards packed? Did I secure the coveted reservation at the newest restaurant in LA and have I invited the correct coterie to join me? Should I change my middle name to Networking? Isn’t the high-profile chef who just got the glowing New York Times review going to be on the cruise? MUST make it a point to share a cocktail or ten with him one evening. Read more