Blake Rowe Music

The title of today's post is the punchline of a shaggy dog story; feel free to reverse engineer your own plot. 

Kenny and I got a hotel room in the Fisherman's Wharf district of San Fran. Unfortunately, my little sniffles may have turned into Kenny's flu. Nonetheless, we paced ourselves and strolled the Japanese Garden in Golden Gate Park, walked through Little Italy and Chinatown, and generally made the best of it. I dropped him at the airport and went straight over to Mary and Mary's place. Mary and I were…

There's a big difference between isolation and solitude, even if they look the same from the outside. I'm definitely not isolating… I was finally on my own again as I said goodbye to Karen and Sylvan in LA and drove up the coast through Big Sur. I've been with friends or family almost every day for over a month, so it felt a little unfamiliar getting back in the Saddle of Solitude. Route 1 between LA and SF is so beautiful. Driving it is challenging but epic. I had only been here once before when Sharon and…

The original plan was to leisurely head south from Seattle on a more inland track, since I did Route 1 down the coast last year. I was texting with my daughter Eva who mentioned she was going to Australia to visit Mira, my late father’s wife, who herself is visiting her son Marc and family who live in Sydney. I asked what Eva’s dates were, which caused her to ask if I’d like to come. At first I hesitated; logistics seemed challenging. She agreed, but typed “YOLO”. Little did I know it meant You Only Live…

I learned this morning while doing a walkthrough with the tenants to winterize the pipes that they intend to move out next summer. I had thought they wanted to buy the house, and I was mostly ready to let it go. It's a beautiful house on a lovely property, but it's also very big for one person. Nonetheless, as we went around the property via video call, I had a huge surge of homesickness. It's a little ironic coming after my last post about the concept of HOME and whether I even had one to return to. It's…

Sharon and I were married on this day in 1986. I was twenty seven, she, twenty nine. So many memories of that day. Central Park. Her simple but elegant Mexican wedding dress. The cork stuck in the wine bottle. Trouble breaking the cheap (and thick) wine glass in the grass. Ted Rosenthal's amazing jazz. Peter's cooking. Sharon's family leaving early en masse to have New York Chinese food. 

I write in my journal every morning. Sometimes I get into a subject worth sharing in the blog. My writing style may be a…

For the second time, the Northwest Nomads gathering in Fort Rock, OR was a wonderful experience. It's hard to believe I'm well into the second year of living on the road. Last year, I was only three months into the journey, and just beginning to settle into the role of solo traveler. Meeting fellow nomads, learning about other gatherings, getting tips for staying connected, it was all so new and informative. I jumped in to the community like a kid on the first day of school. This year, I felt, well…

After Sharon died in March 2024, grief showed up for me as hyper-functionality. Aside from all the estate paperwork, I was internally frantically dedicated to not falling apart. Saying, “Yes to Life!” Was my mantra. I vowed to keep going as normally as possible, not running from grief but feeling it, processing it, sharing about it. I had to convince myself I wasn’t betraying my love for Sharon when I allowed myself to laugh with friends. I did therapy, went to a grief group, journaled, anything and…

The Road to Joy is not without its detours. 

My son Julian has decided to estrange himself from me as well as his entire family. This has been a long time coming. I’ve spent the last two years trying to understand his and his partner’s judgement against us, and my incomprehension only further inflamed the tension. The best I can do is this; Anyone who at this point is not declaring that the State of Israel must cease to exist is a Zionist, and anyone who accepts such a person is therefore complicit of…

Whew! They weren't kidding when they called this trip “Ultimate”. I left the van at Donna Rae and Don's place and flew to Fairbanks, barely catching my connection in Anchorage. This 67 year old can still sprint! Thankfully I had no bags to check and my carry-on was only 16lbs. Laura, our guide, took me to the hotel where we all met and had our orientation for the trip. There were only 12 of us, mostly retirees. This was not going to be strenuous travel. In fact, over and over I felt pampered wherever we…

OMFG. Now that it's over it feels like I was in a dream world for the last few days, a vast ecosystem of interdependent wilderness, with brown bears (aka grizzlies) at the center of it all. We were neutral observers, not contributing or taking away from this environment. The bears here in Lake Clark National Park have never been hunted, nor habituated to people as a possible source of food. Our guide, Shawn, modeled how to move amongst them without entering their ORD (overt reactionary distance). We were no…