Playful Priorities

The weekend called for floating in space.

I answered. And spaced-out on pictures. Except this:

The brochure extols the soul-bending, mind-expanding, life-changing experience that is floating in 1200 pounds of epsom salts.

The virgins to Space City Float here in Houston would call the adventure “a fancy salt bath.”

And they’re wrong.

Lying free atop nearly a ton of salt, I floated on my own. For the first time in my life. Big deal at the tender age of 61. Water terrifies me. Has since birth, for reasons I’ve never understood or explored.

My first thought when the door closed and the lights went out? Mother. This was how I felt floating free, inside my mother. For nine months. No salt float then. A womb bath. Oh my god. 

First time I’ve ever felt free. Completely. Untethered.

Zoom in on the brochure above and you’ll obtain all the contact info for the float place. I paid them, not vice versa.

Floating began our first-ever, five-stop Mate Date. Later, DH and I were so delighted (or gumbied by?) our salt baths, we cancelled one event then ate a relaxing linner (lunch/dinner combo for the diet-conscious). Our fourth and final couple’s bonding came at an impromptu Aretha Franklin tribute at Miller Outdoor Theater. Baby boomers still dance so well when it’s the teenage tunes they remember.

Fans waving their lit iPhones made for an eerie scene. In my mind, I was back in a different kind of salt bath float.

Twenty four hours later, reality returned.

My writing life — as a spacey RoadBroad and dedicated novelist-wannabe — summoned me back to priorities and purpose.

I answered. New clarity and focus.

This is why I am here: to write, to read. Thank you, salt float!

By the way, thank you for asking — yes, that’s a Beto O’Rourke button on my chest. And, yes, I’m going rogue and political here.

Elections matter. Especially this year.

U.S. midterms are 11/6/2018. Before then pleasepleaseplease check to make sure you are registered to vote in your state. There’s hinky stuff happening in Registration Land, folks. Go here to ensure you’re ready to cast your ballot in November:

Verify Your Registration Status + Find Your Polling Place

This is one way your voice is heard, even if it disagrees with mine. Truly. Democracy survives best when we all vote. Or at least that’s a running start.

My public service announcement about your civic duty is now complete.

By the way, while you’re reading my chest, take a closer look. Can you decipher the t‑shirt message? If you can, give a shout-out to Sugar, aka Cheryl Strayed.

Some people say the darnedest, true-est things.

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