We’re finally beginning to explore the beautiful island of Oahu.  The Pali overlook has a history of violence, however, with one native army pushing the invading native army over this mountain, but hey...if you don’t visualize an entire band of brown-skinned, near-nekkid warriors splayed out bloody-dead at the bottom of the mountain, the view is awesome!

Of course, this got me thinking about always ‘taking the scenic route.’  I’ve done it all my life, mostly just to avoid having to get on a freeway, always taking that road less travelled, but therein lay the wonders of life.

When confronted with a fork in the road, I’ve always said, “OH!  Let’s take THAT fork and see where it leads us!”  I’m the one who sees a grand entrance to an estate and turns right in to see how the filthy rich live.  Sal most always objects, picturing us being arrested for trespassing and winding up in a women’s penitentiary somewhere near Vegas. Pish posh...what are they going to do?  We’re two middle-aged women who ‘got lost.’  I just bat my five eyelashes and apologize.  What’s really the worst that can happen?  Maybe they invite us in for a look-see and cocktails.

There are detours on the scenic route and potholes and bumps, and miraculous discoveries...if the busloads of people from the Orient don’t get there first. The view of life from the scenic route is worth all the troubles inherent in turning down the dirt road instead of staying on the highway.  Of course, ‘Deliverance’ comes to mind a time or two, but what are the odds?  Who would hold US for ransom, or want to ravage US just for the fun of it?  The wack-a-doos are few and far between on the scenic route, with more of the kindly-texturous-fascinating local folks who would give you their first-borns rather than cut your guts out for a nickel.  And, the stories they tell are worth all the troubles in getting there.

We’re off the beaten (mainland) path and following the forks in our new roads less travelled now.  At this age, we’ve nothing much more to lose, and with the wisdom and experience we’ve garnered through the years, we’re savvy enough to appreciate all that our new lives have to offer.  We’re tourists in a strange land, not minding all the other tourists who are bold enough to come here.  They are members of our tribe of misfits and wanderers.  We’re also ‘home’ now, and whatever fork in the road takes us to the great beyond, will be a road around here somewhere.  This is our great adventure and our last stand.  And, the views are GREAT!!

KK

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‘Detour’ is an interesting word.  Here are some definitions for it:  diversion, deviation, bypass, alternative route, long way around, indirect route.  In my life I was diverted from my dreams by many things…the need to be liked by the other kids in elementary school, the knowledge that the ‘theater kids’ were nerds, and French Dressing.  That’s right, the pumpkin-colored salad dressing that was the mainstay of any southern picnic that featured greens of any kind.  I thought about it all the time.  But that was a minor detour.

I deviated from the theater classes in high school because everybody seemed to think that I was some kind of swimming prodigy, meant to change the world through articles about me in the Midland, Texas newspaper-sports pages and winning first place medals in places like Lamesa, Snyder and Big Springs, Texas.  Big Springs was where the insane asylum was situated and where lots of boomers raised in the opulence of oil money ended up after doing too much LSD in college or finding out that the way they were raised in the middle of dirt and sky…was all a pack of dried out bullshit.  Welcome to Big Springs.  My, my, that was quite the deviation from where I intended to go with this.

Let’s face it, I always wanted to be an actor, even when I was a little kid.  I had an esteem problem and eventually ended up as a casting director, figuring that if I was too shy to be on stage, I could at least be around actors, and ride on the coattails of their bravado and prospects for stardom.  Talk about ‘the long way around’ and ‘indirect route.’  I didn’t know that I was still on my way to being my, as all the self-help, life coaches preach, authentic self.

I have had many detours to my real self, but I still got here anyway.  I think the key is that I finally just got old enough to take the straight and narrow path, listen to the experts, and go for the Vinaigrette.

It’s been a long road, with lots of shysters hawking their wares along the way.  I learned not to buy them.  Lots of little tributaries that lead to dangerous circumstances.  I survived them all by the grace of a universe with a compassionate nature, and cops who couldn’t stand to see a Texas teenager cry.  I may have taken the long way around, but it was the scenic route.  But I digress…oh hell, just keep going.

Onward through the fog!

SalGal