#179. or, The Clock is Ticking!

  I'm trying really hard here, not to be THAT guy.

  You know that guy. The one who goes on and on incessantly about something he gets to do, while the rest of you are left to suffer in your day to day lives.

  But I'm weak. And if I don't tell somebody, I'm probably going to explode, and that would be unpleasant. So I'm going to tell you, and imagine that you've all just shimmied your asses onto the edge of your seats, leaned ever so slightly, closer towards your screens, and are thinking, "What Ken?" "What is this news that has us all atither?" 

  OK, honestly, I know I'm lucky if you're here blurry eyed, on your 3rd cup of coffee, trying to get through your blogroll in your underwear. But I'm imagining atither, so roll with me on this.

  My winter holidays are less than a month away, and I get to escape this frozen wasteland I call home! (That last sentence used to be all caps, but I went back and changed it because I'm trying to show a little restraint here.) Also, I may or may not have dug my kids' used up Advent calender out of the trash, refilled it with the left over Pot of Golds, Scotch taped the windows shut, and put a palm tree sticker on the 25. 

  I'm a bit excited about this.

  My wife and I, along with young son, are jetting off to Cuba toward the end of January. Because there's nothing like 8 months of winter to make you dream of visiting one of the 5 remaining communist countries left in the world. Actually, it turns out, Cuba is in fact, quite the popular tourist destination for Canadians. And I won't be visiting with any political agendas, but rather, for the rum, cigars, ocean, sun, and sand. Roughly in that order. Also, I may have just pee'd myself a little bit there, imaging myself partaking of all of those things simultaneously. But.....you don't need to concern yourself with that.

  I have this countdown app on my tablet that's been ticking down since I started it, back in frickin October. And like the fireplace channel on the TV somehow mysteriously makes you feel all warm and cozy on the inside, some nights I've laid awake in the darkness, while my family slept, counting down the seconds, dreaming of dancing the Salsa and conversing in perfect Spanish with the locals.

  Unfortunately, the extent of my Spanish is "hola", and even though I have taken Salsa lessons in the past, I seem to lack the ability to move my body in rhythmic unison to the music. My hope is, that if I'm ever called upon to actually do the Salsa in a public setting, any retained knowledge I have on Salsa-ing will spontaneously manifest itself, and I'll be hip-swinging-ly awesome. Not to mention irresistibly sexy. In my imagination, that's how it's going to go down. Rum may play a part in helping me achieve that.

  Nonetheless, the clock is running, and barring mechanical failure or weather related flight delays, when the numbers hit zero, I'll be thrust back into my seat as the pilot pushes the throttle of the plane to maximum, to achieve cruising altitude. Then I'll tuck in my elbows to eat my cellophane covered airline breakfast with plastic cutlery, and enjoy my thimble full of complimentary champagne as we jet off to a communist paradise.

  It's so exciting!

Wheels up in 26 days.  Because it's fun to say wheels up!

  Until then though, there's much to be done. I have to try on all of my beach shirts, make room in my humidor for new cigars, figure out which flip flops I'm going to take, and see if I still fit into my shorts. I suspect, after all of the turkey, ham, and gravy I've consumed over the last week, there might be an issue with that last item.

   I may need to get onto some sort of emergency weight loss schedule to fit back into my shorts, along with building up my tolerance to Rum. Because after all,

  ...........the clock is ticking!