He's Leaving on a Jet Plane

Tomorrow, my husband will get on a plane bound for Africa, where he will climb and film Mt. Kilimanjaro for an educational documentary project.

It's been a long, strange trip already...about 10 months ago, he first learned that this gig was a possibility. I listened to his excitement with a grain of salt, and moved on with the dishes, laundry, and invoicing that dominated the week. As a filmmaker and writer respectively, we both get to do some cool things for our jobs, but we also get a lot of 'doinks' - trips that are presented and eventually fall flat for a variety of reasons: no funding, no time, not enough interest, too much interest, etc. I, for instance, have been bumped from a trip to Fiji, a trip to Nepal, and a ride in the Zero G plane. But I have gone snowmobiling on the Lewis and Clark Trail, ridden trains and ferries around Europe, and hung out with a bunch of stoner-geeks in Kentucky, all in the name of journalism.

About a month later, the trip started to look more solid, and wheels started to turn, so to speak. The biggest sign of 'OMG, I think he's really going to do this' came on Thanksgiving morning, when Mark had his last cigarette after years of smoking. He never faltered, never looked back, never cheated, and was surprisingly bearable during the first few weeks as a non-smoker. 

Then, the training started - to get in shape, he had to complete a certain amount of miles walked or hiked each week, plus cardio and strength training. But the other wrinkle was training to use - and carry - a 40-pound RED camera. I tagged along for a lot of these missions well into April, when they suddenly stopped.

We had a bad day. Due in part to the physical training, a hernia Mark already had worsened, and he had surgery to patch not one but three holes in his gullet. While in recovery, his doctor came out to tell me he didn't think Mark was going to be able to make the trip to Africa - and could I please let him know? 

Stomp all over my husband's dream immediately following surgery? Great. Under normal circumstances, this would stink. But what made it surreal and awful was the phone call I'd gotten an hour earlier, with news that my mother-in-law had been airlifted to a hospital in Tampa following a stroke. Mark's mom, June, who was well-known in our city as the manager of a downtown deli for many years,  passed away a few days later. Over the course of 24 hours, I had to tell my husband the worst news I've ever had to tell anyone, and then add insult to injury by informing him that Kili was looking a lot farther away than ever before. It was a rough month for both of us. 

Mark didn't take to the Kili news right away though - he was still convinced that he could heal in time to get back to training. I wasn't as sure, but a few weeks later, there he was climbing the Seven Sisters Range, Mt. Tom, and Mt. Monadnock. There was another blip on the radar when some funding for the expedition fell through, only to be restored a week later. At that point, I decided that fate had stepped in and taken the wheel. Nothing was going to stop him from going on this trip, and frankly, had the situation been reversed (and it may soon be) and he was the one to tell me he'd rather I not chase my destiny, his words would fall on deaf ears. I know that. He knows that. We're both stubborn donkeys. 

Instead, I put the Spin Machine into high-gear (quel surprise, I'm the company's publicist). If he's going to go, I thought, I might as well get some sweet press out of it. The response has been amazing - one national, one regional, and several local publications and outlets picked up the piece: Man climbs African Mountain with Giant Camera for Educational Film. 

The professional goals Mark will achieve as part of this trip are countless, and include the chance to shoot amazing footage and make some international connections. But I've written enough articles, releases, and blog entries about those things. With less than 24-hours until he flies off into the wild blue yonder, I think I am ready to hang up my PR cap for a minute and just be a wife. 

Dear B~ 

I am so proud of you! You've done so much to get to this point, including put up with a nag from time to time. I know you will fulfill your fantasy of playing drums in Africa - you've already built a drum bike and played it in the desert, so why not? 

I will be with you every step of the way, and so will your mom and everyone else who loves you. I am so lucky to have a wunderkind like you. 

Now, get packing. I have bookcases to organize and a kitchen to paint. In the words of George Eliot, 'It's never too late to be what you might have been.' 

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