Musings from Diane

We left behind so many great friends in New Jersey, that our month-long farewell tour was filled both with laughter and sadness. There were trips down memory lane, going away parties that highlighted our idiosyncrasies and long painful hugs. In part, this blog is for all of you. But it’s also for us, as we adjust to our new surrounding and use these postings as a cheap form of therapy.

Now we’re 1,700 miles away. Many, many boxes have been unpacked and most of our “first string” belongings have found a new home. Lots of stuff that we paid 59 cents a pound to ship didn’t make the “main floor” cut and sits in the basement. We’re also experiencing a typical Denver spring and enjoying sunny, 68 degree days and snow all in the span of 48 hours.

Moving to Colorado is hardly as exotic as some of our past adventures. No yaks, llamas, Tibetan monks, or sacred cows are roaming the streets. Gene, however, did venture out past our usual territory in search of a McDonald's. He came back unfulfilled. Unfortunately, a few days later he did spot a little golden arch inside a Walmart. I think it's a long shot that I ever turn him into a vegetarian.

So far what I miss about work are my friends and access to a copy machine. (Not with the same intensity. I miss my friends more.) I’m now among the self employed, unemployed and retired folks paying 9 cents a copy at the Office Depot.

What I love about retirement is sleeping late, no schedules, exercising in mid-day and spending time outdoors when the weather is beautiful in the middle of the week. What I’m missing, however, is the interaction with people. (Not the annoying ones, just the fun ones.) Looks like I need to exercise my underdeveloped extroverted side and get myself some new friends. Of course, they will never replace our old friends in New Jersey. Perhaps the big Obama sticker on the back of my car is keeping some of them away. That might not be a bad thing.

Of course, I’m loving time with the kids, especially those impromptu visits and their cute little faces peaking in the window after they ring the doorbell.

Young political activists never fade away; they just get older. I had a great day just before we moved listening to Gene, Rick and Christine reminisce about working for the McGovern campaign back in 1972 when they were idealistic activists. We met in New Brunswick and strolled around in search of what once was the local Democratic headquarters for the George McGovern campaign. It’s now a counseling center or empty. Can't say for sure. Gene is still clutching notes, flyers and memorabilia that he has saved for almost 40 years. The man saves EVERYTHING. George would be proud!