Dear Algae,

Wow, you really know how to ruin the party.

I was so excited for the annual staff retreat at Neemrana this year.  Visions of years past flooded my memory as I drove the two hours to arrive to the 700 year old fort palace.  As I whizzed the Opel Corsa past cows, donkeys, auto rickshaws, giant trucks, tiny motorbikes and other cars hellbent on getting out of Delhi, I was reminded of the trip undertaken in years past.  Such a gauntlet was necessary, perhaps, to enhance the peacefulness of the Neemrana property.

I knew that upon my arrival, I would be greeted with the white glove treatment-hot towels, cool drinks and all of the accoutrements of five-star service.  Then it would be off to the pool for drinks, card games and socializing with friends old and new!

Oh the pool! What a treat on those hot, hot Rajasthani days.

But you algae, you had other plans for us, didn't you?  You were so desirous in your pursuit of photosynthesis that you didn't account for the 60 or 70 of us that were interested in cool, clean, blue water.  "Blue water be damned," you screamed from the murky depths of what had previously been the Neemrana Fort Palace pool!  Algae, you had different ideas.  Perhaps your  green sheen should have reminded me of stories of envy and humility.  Perhaps I could have accepted Neemrana's inability to keep a pool clean.  Instead I was reminded of the dark green hue of the Incredible Hulk, indicative of the rage that was growing inside of me, ruining my weekend.  Had you been yellow instead of green, you may have inspired me to make lemonade, but instead algae, I was left with pea soup.

At least I have a story.

Hulked out,
jason

Dear Murphy Lake,

There goes the neighborhood.

Your new neighbor,
jason

Dear Grandmother,

First of all, thank you. Thank you for everything. It's hard to explain all of the things that I'm thankful for, so I'll try reverse chronological order.

Thank you for waiting for us. I know you were in pain for a long time, and I knew you were ready to go, so thank you. Thanks for enduring it for a bit longer until we arrived to see you this summer.

Thank you for winning the last game of cribbage that we got to play. I thought I was hot stuff when I beat you two days before that, but in classic Nancy Ann fashion, you were tough till the end and put me in my place. I always loved that about you. You could dish it out and you could take it. You calmly listened to my trash talk, then creamed me the very next game. I should have known better than to think that I could best you in cards.

Thanks for getting email. It was fun to send you letters from abroad and getting replies asking when I was coming home. I loved imagining the giant pile of free AOL discs on your desk that you kept to keep your Internet running.

Thanks for throwing me to the wolves at the Fon du Luth Casino. Those old ladies taught me the hard way about taking the dealer's ten.

Thanks for imprinting crazy images in my head like the "Grandma Nancy Ash" and "Lil' Toot."

Thanks for full cookie jars, Sunday dinners, trips to the races and humoring my imagination at the Lester Park Greenhouse as I pretended to be a jungle explorer.

Thanks for the pumpkin story and for exposing me to AM radio and true country and western music as we drove around town on one crazy adventure after another.

Thanks for not believing me when I broke my leg (kidding, i'm over it) and thanks for spoiling me rotten when I was the only grandchild.

Thanks for everything Grandmother, Granny, Gram, Fancy Nancy... I love you and I'm going to miss you more than I realize.

Gratefully yours,
jason

Dear Taking a Shower in America,

You are so awesome!  This is going to be a gushy love letter, but I just have to say it out loud.  Taking a Shower in America, you are so dreamy! ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 


I love the way I can turn your hot water on and it comes right out of the tap!  I love your water pressure!  But most of all, I love how I can let the water wash all over me and swallow up mouthfuls without fear of typhoid, giardia or cholera!  What a treat!


Squeakily clean,
jason
xoxo

Dear Turkish Bath,

First of all, thanks yet again for a fantastic experience.  I'm so glad that you don't meet the stereotypical view of what many must think you are.  You did not feature a swarthy, mustachioed Turk twisting and contorting me into a world of pain.  You did not feature a room full of sweaty, dodgy men with eyes darting to and fro.  And you most certainly were not a gateway into Istanbul's dark world of hashish and crooked deals.

On the other hand, you were everything I hoped you would be.  I'm glad that we trusted your out-of-the-way location behind Suleymaniye Mosque.  It contributed to the privacy and peace we were looking for.  I'm grateful that your staff was kind and helpful.  The wooden slippers you gave us to help us from slipping on the marble floors of the hammam were well-intended, even if I thought they would cause me to topple over and meet my doom, rather than slip.

The 100 degree temperature in the hammam was just right, as we let the stresses of the year sweat out of our bodies.  Laying on the heated marble for forty minutes may have just a bit too long, but nobody passed out.  When the scrubbers came in a greeted us with a cascade of freezing cold water and a friendly laugh and smile, we again knew we'd chosen the right place.

And then we got down to business.  A great exfoliating scrub, hard but not too hard.  A luxurious, foamy soap down and massage, again hard but not too hard.  Another rinse, a quick dry, wrapped up like burritos and an apple tea to relax and it was over.

Hard to believe that ninety minutes had gone so quickly, but when we left, we were rejuvenated, happy and ready to continue our exploration of a great city.

Scrubbed and happy,
jason

Dear 1,000,000 miles,

I don't know exactly how to say this.  When you first came into my life in March of 2010, I never thought this would be the result of our relationship, but I now I find myself sitting here alone in my apartment without you.  I want to be angry, scream and shout about how you left me, but I know that wouldn't be fair.

It's not you, it's me.

I mean we had some fun times.  Some really incredible time, actually.  When that email came into my inbox asking for 3 reminder dates to send flowers and I'd have the chance for you to enter my life, I was skeptical.  I already had so much junk mail in my life at that time, I was nervous to let you in.  Against my nature, I let you in and you changed my life.

1,000,000 miles, when I think about that first summer together, I still get a huge smile on my face.  You gave me two Around-the-World tickets from Delhi with stops in Seoul, Tokyo, Minnesota, New York, Athens and Istanbul.  That would have been enough for anyone to be happy and fulfilled.  But, you went the extra step.  You also gave me a fourteen day car rental, two hotels in Athens, a hotel in Istanbul and an incredible hotel in a fairy castle cave in Cappadocia, Turkey!  I felt like John Travolta in Grease; summer lovin' indeed!

That autumn you just kept on giving.  A hotel room in Kuala Lumpur for a long weekend, a dodgy hotel room in Mumbai on the way home from our first safari in South Africa and two flights to BALI with a stopover in Bangkok!

Spring flowers blossomed, the birds started singing and we had two tickets booked to Krabi, Thailand.  We had been together for almost a year.  Maybe that's when I should have paid more attention to you, 1,000,000 miles.  I had taken you for granted.  You were slipping from my hands and I didn't even notice.

Now it's May, 14 months later and after a violent day of summer bookings (two Delhi-New York roundtrips, a sixteen day car rental and one last hotel room) and you're gone.

Thanks for everything, 1,000,000 miles.  We had a great run, but it's over.

Wistfully,
jason


Squirrel Nut Zippers - "It's Over"
Buy it here.

Dear Fever-Induced Roadhouse Facebook Status Live Blog,

Thanks for making me feel better.

On the mend,
jason