I recently returned from a business trip to Huntington Beach, California. Huntington Beach is a gorgeous area. The beach, pier, and amazing sunsets attract millions of people to live and visit each year. Linda and I spent Thanksgiving in Huntington Beach the first year all of the kids had moved out of the house. A fantastic time for quiet, calm reflection on the new chapter unfolding in our lives. Unfortunately, Linda got sick and spent most of the time sleeping, but that's a story for another time.
Driving to California was my first trip back since that memorable Thanksgiving, and I was almost overwhelmed with the congestion, air pollution, and the $7.00 / gal gas prices. It was heartbreaking, but the beautiful area I remembered was gone.
During a break, the organizers of the conference played short clips from the internet, and I laughed again at the South Park clip "And its Gone." The clip itself probably shouldn't be funny, and truthfully nobody likes to lose anything, especially money. Still, the animators at South Park are notorious for illustrating humor in our society, and rarely does anything escape their warped minds. In the spirit of full disclosure, I have never watched an episode of South Park.
Truthfully, everything goes away. Some hurt more than others, and some we are happy to see leave, i.e., 2020. The animators at South Park could probably make a fortune by simply taking the "And its Gone" script and applying it across the broad spectrum of our lives.
As I was returning from Zion National Park on Friday, two thoughts occupied my mind. Both were important, and I kept bouncing back and forth between the two trying hard to keep them in the forefront of my mind until I reached a wide spot in the road.
At the first opportunity to stop and write the two items down, I pulled over and created a short note for the first item. I quickly made a file for the second note, And it's Gone. I sat there, stupified by what my second thought was supposed to be. I know it was necessary; I tried to think back along the road when I bounced back and forth between the ideas trying to recall; however, the second thought was a complete blank. It was gone for good. Two days later, I still hadn't the foggiest idea what was so important. I hope it filtered out into my notes over the past two days, and I failed to recognize it as the missing link; however, there's a reason we call it absent. And it's gone.