Nevada County Picayune and Gurdon Times Newspaper Archive

Into The Void with John Miller

Tropical Dreaming

I know this sounds terrible, but these days all I can think about is a one-way ticket to the tropics.

Granted it's spring in Arkansas. The weather is beautiful, while being completely unpredictable. Everything is turning a lovely shade of green. The fish are becoming more active.

It isn't enough. Not to be ungrateful, but I've seen 43 springs in Arkansas, each one fantastic, and it's now time for a major change, and we ain't talking about anything landlocked.

It's funny. When I go somewhere and the clerk/waitress/server/whoever, asks if they can get me anything, my response is invariably "a one-way ticket to Fiji." Of course, the destination does change from time to time, but the basic concept is I want to be in the lower latitudes.

Perhaps being burned out has something to do with this desire bordering on mania. After all, it's been so long since I've had anything vaguely resembling serious time off, the word vacation has no real meaning. In fact, I have to look it up from time to time so I can be reminded of the definition.

I catch myself listening to Jimmy Buffett more and more, all the while fantasizing about some tropical paradise. Yes, I know the islands have problems of their own  volcanoes, hurricanes and, worst of all, tourists.

But, as I remind those who point this out to me, we are in Arkansas. Here there is the possibility of a major earthquake, a strong chance of seeing a tornado on an annual basis, thunderstorms strong enough to knock windows out of their mooring, flash flooding, poisonous snakes out the wazoo, insects of all kinds and every allergen known to man.

Please don't get me wrong. I love Arkansas. Otherwise I would have left a long time ago. It's just that a change is needed, and a drastic one at that.

All I can think of, though, is lying under a palm tree, feeling the warm sea breeze caress my browning skin while sipping on a boat drink and watching the world go by. Is this so bad? Doesn't matter, because I can't turn the movies in my mind off these days.

As I get more and more of my bills paid off and have fewer reasons to stay in one place, don't be surprised if you come by and see a sign on my door reading: "Gone to the Islands. Be back, possibly."

In the meantime, there's still Buffett and "Margaritaville."