Before It Was a Sparkle in My Eye

My countdown widget blinks that only 191 days separate me and my brother from the trip of a life time. His senior trip, my quarter-life-crisis one, will take us to New Zealand for a week and a half of heart-attack-inducing, adrenaline-pumping stunts.
This idea hatched last December after my first real vacation since I had started BiPlane Productions, Inc. Crystal and I hadn’t taken a week-long trip alone since our honeymoon, and our businesses only allowed for such during what is for both of our firms a slow winter month. We had white water rafted and waterfall climbed. I swam with sharks and rays, she with dolphins. I gave windsurfing and long boarding a try, she a Dominican pedicure.
It was utterly cathartic.
We both decided to build a similar experience into each year, now that we had the resources and freedom to do so. She looked to 2006 as the year she’d tour South America or Europe with her friends. I hoped for an adventure that didn’t include art galleries, beach blankets, and shopping. It would have to be in the Southern Hemisphere, as I have failed miserably at almost every winter sport.
So, somewhere in there, I came upon New Zealand. And through a series of eliminations, I determined the only traveling companion who would work was Timmy. Despite having athletic potential good enough for a college scholarship, he was crazy enough to be pulling Xgames stunts on his bike. So, I knew he wasn’t focused on on the risk associated with danger.
I bought a New Zealand guidebook and full-size map, and spent HOURS researching online. As with every other proposition to my parents in my life, this one would require that I do some serious homework, present my information well, and illustrate the passion that necessitated their approval. I bookmarked scores of sites and dog eared tens of pages, developed time and location schematics, and honed the itinerary to an approvable, accountable schedule. Then I designed a proposal to rival any that I have created for clients.
I strategized with Tim then mailed the packet five hours away to Mom & Dad.
I knew I had the leverage with Dad, who jumped out of airplanes prior to Mom’s pregnancy with me. It would come down to Mom. I don’t think I worked any angles–for a change—just let the proposal speak for itself with Dad’s intercession.
It worked.
And now the real work begins of reserving flights and rooms and transportation and vendors. To differing degrees and at varying times, each will require a point of no return—a burned bridge that will back us out onto the various risky ledges. Timmy’s got to get a passport and I enough American Express points to fly us both free from LAX to Auckland. We both have to muster up the self control to not exhaust the topic with our loved ones before we leave—and I more than he.
So that’s what this blog starts. It enables me to here deposit a portion of fervor and let only the interested delve into it.

Image used by permission through purchase from iStockPhoto.com©2006