Thursday, July 25, 2002. Entry #178

In my idle, after-work, driving-home fantasies, I daydream about becoming fabulously, outrageously rich.

My brain has a million scenarios on how this could happen. I could save the life of an old billionaire, who either rewards me with untold riches, or leaves everything he owns to me in his will (and, of course, he dies shortly afterwards in some pleasant fashion). In others, I rescue a leprechaun, uncork a cooperative genie, gain foreknowledge of the winning numbers of a $300 million lottery, or get the magical ability to predict horse race winners like Gary Coleman in 'On the Right Track'.

Money can't buy everything, of course, but I happen to want a lot of the things that you can't get without money. If I did get a huge buttload of money, here's my plan of what to do with it.

I want to buy a big, shiny diamond ring and propose to Lisa. Then I want to pay some wedding planner to put together the perfect wedding for a year from now. I want to hire an amazing architect to design our future home.

And then I want to hit the road.

I want to take What I Saw Today... on the road. I want to buy a touring or van, and all the gear to update this site from anywhere in North America. I want to do a driving tour of North American over the next year, going from city to city, meeting people, seeing things and writing about it here.

I'd tie in as many other journalists as I could. I want to meet all the people I've been reading and writing to for the last couple years.

We'd follow mostly the circumference of North America, heading out to Vancouver, and then counter-clockwise around the continent (with detours inland to see certain places and people). We'd be in San Francisco in time for JournalCon in October, New Orleans for Mardi Gras, and hit New England once the spring leaves come out. Winter snow would be entirely avoided (except for when we fly home for Christmas).

My word, does that sound fun. We'd stay in fine hotels, visit every landmark and roadside attraction that struck our fancy (The Sphagnum Moss Rest Area? Let's stop!), and live like gypsy kings for a year.

Then back home for the wedding of the century, and off to a honeymoon in Paris.

And what would this endeavor require? Money! Lots and lots of money!

(If there happens to be a financier out there willing to subsidize at least the traveling portion of this pipe dream, please contact the author immediately. It'd be great copy for any travel magazine or website!)

I don't dream small, that's for sure.

Wishing for money is selfish, yes, but what else do I really need to wish for? I'd rather learn to take care of my health than have it gifted to me (besides, odds are really good I would simply get fat and unhealthy again - what a waste of a wish!). I have good friends and a wonderful family, and I would certainly meet a lot of wonderful new people on my travels. Writing my ongoing travelogue would fill my needs for personal accomplishment, and having all that money would allow me to follow whatever pursuits I wished once it was complete (like owning my own tavern, or learning to paint).

And love? What could I wish for that is better than what I have now?

Money it is then. Gobs and gobs of money.

So if there are any leprechauns out there in need of saving from a dog, just call for me any time. And make it soon, would you? Winter comes early in this neck of the woods.

Button had more babies!

We were getting worried about our little mamma pig. Her posterior was so wide that when she tried to move out of her plastic igloo, she would get wedged and drag it around the cage with her. We had planned to take her to the vet tomorrow if she didn't have her babies by then.

This morning I got up to discover five little mouse-sized guinea pig babies (and one sore and tired mamma pig). Three of them look like their Daddy (like Errol and Buster did), one has her coloring and Jersey's short hair, and one has Jersey's coloring and Button's long, mixed-up hair. They're so sweet!

We're now accepting bids from people wishing to take them home in six weeks. We even have a cage to offer an early bidder.

One Year and One Day Ago Today: Missed Anniversary - Where I briefly emerged from my hiatus to whine about missing my journalversary.

One Year Ago Today: I went back on hiatus, but in 1946, the first bikini is shown at a Paris fashion show.

Two Years Ago Today: Damn bicycles - Where I ate Indian food, cleaned the apartment, went to a barbeque party, got confused over street names and whined about bad work Internet connections. I was a busy guy.

Mom Rating: 3 out of 5. Mom thinks wishing is all fine and good. I just shouldn't get my hopes up.

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Take me home, big fella