by Judith Fein

Last night, I was sitting in an auditorium, waiting for the audience to file in, and an open-hearted woman I know sat down next to me. We exchanged a little chit chat, and then she asked me where I had been lately. I told her we had started out in Tunisia, headed for central and northwestern Spain and capped our travels in northern and then southern Ireland.

“You can’t take it with you,” she said, half to herself and half to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, last year I couldn’t imagine how I could spend what was left of my money on travel. Now I’ve had a change of heart. When you’re gone, the money is of no value to you, so you may as well spend it on things you love.”

“And?” I prompted her.

“And I love travel. So I’m willing to spend my money on it.”

To the best of my knowledge, the Recession, which looks like a lot like a pre-Depression to me, isn’t over. People are losing their jobs the way folks used to lose cell phones or keys. Empty houses are growing old and weary as they get battered by the market. I haven’t been in a crowded store since autumn leaves were falling. Expensive restaurants are offering prix fixe menus that barely cover the cost of the wait and kitchen staffs. And with all of this, folks I know are taking down their suitcases from their shelves and are ready to travel again.

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Flying High

by Jessica Lynn

The other day, as I was gearing up for yet another flight, someone at my office asked me why I fly, when flying is such a hassle. GOOD question. EASY answer...

I fly to travel the world. I fly to see Buckingham Palace from the top of a double-decker bus in London, ride a bike in Amsterdam, take the slanted elevator ride up the Eiffel Tower, roam the imperial forum in of Rome, and enjoy a river cruise along the Great Mississippi River.

I fly to taste the world. I fly so I can devour an all-American hotdog in New York, discover a traditional English breakfast in Great Britain, eat authentic menudo in Mexico, taste the decadent crepes and cheese in France, and sip sangria in Spain.

I fly to meet people. I fly for the joy of visiting with old friends who have moved away, to strike up a conversation with the person sitting in the seat next to me, and the prospect of meeting someone new and hearing their story.

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