Gordon Barlow

Some good reminiscing there, JD! Excellent stuff! Linda and I made the mistake - and it was a huge mistake at the time - of resuming our travels with a six-weeks-old baby in our camper-van. After a couple of aborted efforts in continental Europe, we gave up and settled in Cayman in the Caribbean, for the rest of our lives. The best we could do is encourage our son (born in England in 1975) to pick up the slack. Which he did magnificently, and has done for much of his life. He does settle down from time to time, but only temporarily. He learnt Spanish in Mexico and Guatemala, and Norwegian in Norway where his three children live, and their mothers. So he keeps his options open, which is always important.

JDWoowoo50

Gordon, like your son, in my life I've held to the principle that whatever one's marital status, it's important to be yourself - we were all people in our own right(s) before our SOs came along, and we have to maintain a degree of "our own person-ness" if we are to remain individuals and, I've always thought, of interest to another with who we share our life.

I've not had children of my own, so I've maybe missed out on some unique and wonderful experiences. I don't really know. I did take on two stepsons, from my second (Australian) partner, who are much closer to me than they are to their mother, this by her choosing. Interestingly, after university both availed themselves of an opportunity I offered them and moved to Vancouver, where they have good careers and marriages of their own. So in this way I've done my work.

My 'now' life partner is younger than I am, greatly more career minded than I've been, and a home-body, so happy to stay close to the nest while I now and then wander for several months at a. time, to places I'm fascinated by and always longed to explore. In Southeast Asia. I was born in Canada and I saw all of North America almost in its entirety, several times - in 1966 I drove myself eat to west, from New Brunswick to Victoria, British Columbia, then down the Pacific coast to Baja California down to La Paz in its southernmost point, no mean feat in a Peugeot 403 running on three cylinders, and finally across the continent, stopping at all the Civil War battlefields on the way, to Maine and home to Atlantic Canada. When I relocated myself to New Mexico in the 1970s, I did similar journeys several more times, lastly in 2012 when I retired and we took four months to retrace my steps and revisit all those Confederate versus the Union battlefields. A most unique experience, that was. I could never do it now. Two times on those battlefields were enough.

Europe attracted me more, especially after I lived in France for 10 months in 1966-7. My first visit to Britain was as a naive and life-inexperienced 17 year old, a sort of exchange visit with three other high school friends. That journey convinced me I would never again travel in a group, or even with more than one other person - ideally, on my own. I've held to this 'travel rule' since. As a lifelong photographer I thrive on putting a camera , a map, a bottle of water and a snack in my backpack and going out to just wander, to see where the day and my trek will take me. Often in Indonesia and other Asian places I've got on a bus or a train, intending to travel a short distance, and ending up visiting altogether different places for two or even three days. today the world is much more dangerous and this 'wandering' could turn into disaster, but my good luck has held and I've never had problems. A small disclaimer - now in my 70s, I'm much more careful about this than I was then, the world has greatly changed (so have I, not entirely for the best!)

As for your comment about "a huge mistake", I hold to the firm belief that unless one of our adventures leads us to an unexpected end of life, we do no such thing as make mistakes. These life experiences are sent to us as tests, or to change us and lead us to the right path, if we keep our minds open and try to learn from them. It's also important to not repeat our sillier mistakes too often. I married two times before I realized I was basically repeating my mistakes. I then 'freewheeled' for 17 years until by chance one day in Malaysia, I accepted an invite to join a table in an Indian bar for a beer or six and met my current SO. That was in 1997 and while I don't believe in old sayings, In all ways it was Third Time Lucky. We 'clicked' that day, we got together soon after, all my hitherto enjoyable bachelor ways immediately flew out the window, and I've been "a good old boy" ever since for 27 years. Yes, it happens.

In Sydney I had a friend, an irascible American who hadn't found his place in the phlegmatic Aussie temperament of that time. One night we went out to dinner at a Japanese restaurant in the city. At the next table, a group of Japanese tourists were drinking sake by the gallon and making merry. They were noisy at first and rather annoying, but eventually we thawed and accepted an invitation to join them. One of this group became my friend's SO for the rest of his life. They were together for 37 years until he died in 2017, theirs was a true love match with never a fight, a difficult moment, hardly even a cross word between them in all that time. An unexpected dinner invitation (and too much sake) changed my friend's life. It can and does happen.

I wasn't so lucky, and it took me until I was 48 to find my way - and the right person. As I've already written, such things happen, and lucky us if we are open enough in our minds to realize the moment when it comes, and go along with it.

Others I know haven't been so lucky. Mostly my American and European friends here in Australia, they don't understand the Aussie temperament and the different ways of living here, the cultural differences cause problems and their relationships end up on the rocks. Again, such things happen. Some learn from their failures and try again. Others close down on themselves and stay alone. Whatever. Importantly, if it suits, well and good. If it doesn't, well, change it!

I have a psychiatrist friend who tells me, it's amazing how important a role sheer chance can play in one's life. As she says, you could ge on a bus or a tram one day, and two seats are free, one to the left, the other to the right. Depending on where you sit, you may meet your life partner, or you may miss out and never know it. Many would call this luck, but to me this word opens up dimension of good luck or bad luck, and I've always believed there is no such thing as "bad" luck if one is aware and willing to learn. Unless of course the bus collides with a train or drives off a bridge, and yes, such things happen. Misfortune or happenstance can strike at any time. Which in a way demolishes my 'theory' about good/bad luck, but as I see it, it's not worth arguing about. Opinions and all that.

Gordon Barlow

JD. My son (now 47) and I pretend to believe in Loki, the ancient Norse god of luck and caprice. I see his intervention in your love-life, JD. The first episode, you rushed into without thinking, and Loki ignored you. The second time - well, I don't know the details, but you seem to have coasted along taking your luck for granted. Loki doesn't like that. It's not respectful. But the third time, you did get lucky, because you didn't "push your luck". You let him do his thing! And this is the key: you always have to meet him half-way. As a god, he's not a bad person; he's just a bit cranky and, well, capricious. We suspect he might have had a hand in the choice of the Boy Scouts' motto: "Be prepared".

JDWoowoo50

Loki, fate, karma - it's all much the same. Mythology often has deep roots in common sense, real-world happenstance.

It took me many decades to figure out why I had to do all the things I had to do in my early life - because I "had to" as part of my own growth process.

I got married for the first time to escape my family and leave home. too much religion, too many silly rules, not enough love and affection. I sought to get away from the first two and find more of the third, and I failed. Without the life-experience to reflect on, I raced into matrimony and ended up marrying a young woman who resembled my mother. She did the same, looking for the father figure she hadn't had in her early life. I all too quickly realized the mistake I had made, but stayed on, not wanting to hurt her - until we finally managed to escape our two controlling families, to a place entirely of our own, and sat down to work out things, at which we realized we were both in the same boat, so to say.

The second time around, we both did it to "fit in" socially. In Sydney at that time (1970s), most of my Australian friends were freeing themselves from their own repressive English-style upbringings, and feeling their way to new lives without the restrictions of family, church and society. One by one, rather two by two, they were waltzing down the church aisles or lining up at the registrar's office at Town Hall for their certificates - and we felt we had to do the same "belong". We then set to making the same mistakes we had both done in our previous marriages.

Second time around I lasted longer, years and not months. She had two sons from her first marriage, in their early teens, who had been neglected during the long (and acrimonious) divorce from her first husband. I took them on, with a new and style of parenting, that of a mentor and also a friend, not a "book relation" with all the usual social rules and regulations that went with marriage in the'60s and '70s.

We lasted four years. Then her parents both died and left her a share of their estate - a large country property and land holdings) -which, once sold, gave her a newfound financial stablily for the first time. Suddenly she was saying, "I want to be free" and "I want to find myself" and she left for a new (and more exciting than domesticity) social circles. A series of short-term relationships with unsuitable men left her emotionally damaged (and much poorer) and she drifted about for some time before eventually settling with a new SO, much older and wiser. By then her sons had their university degrees and both opted for new lives in Canada, assisted by my dual nationality and sponsorship as my family "adopted by marriage" as one could do in those days.

Freed from all these cares and responsibilities, I freewheeled for 17 years until my new SO came along, entirely by chance, during a brief holiday in Malaysia. Third Time Lucky, karma, Loki, fate, happenstance or whatever it was, this time it worked.

As for "luck", well, I'm not sure I've taken it for granted. In the course of my long life I've wandered to and fro, to many interesting places int he world. My life philosophy seems to be I'll just go walking today (or hop on bus, a train or a flight) to somewhere, and see what happens. With an open mind and heart and the right attitude, things often happen. Usually they are short-term and to be enjoyed "at the time" but no more.

Here it should be noted that by this I do NOT mean sexual dalliances or encounters in bars, pubs or such hangouts).

Along with this wandering goes a deep sense of commitment to my SO and our life together in Australia. I travel for a few months at a time, with my partner's full acceptance and approval, but I know where home is, and when the time comes for me to return I do so, happily and willingly.

My two sons now want me to return to Canada, for a long stay Vancouver, maybe a rail journey across the country, and to revisit old 'hants' in New Brunswick, Quebec and Ontario. I would like to while I still can, but in so many other ways I'm not sure. I would be doing it entirely on my own, leaving SO behind at home to look after things, which isn't really fair given how long I've now been away. So time Australia may be the way for most of the rest of 2023. Time will tell and I'll see. Rather, we'll see. Now it's time for discussion and sharing thoughts.

SO actually envies me this freedom, and often says we will be doing more of it together after we are both retired. However, given our age difference, I'm not so sure I will be doing much wandering by that time. Home, a rocking chair, the cat on my lap, a good book and YouTube movies will keep me anchored. SO can then return to the fold in Malaysia and go exploring from there, with my full blessing and my good wishes for many enjoyable moments. One has to give back what one has taken in life, after all. Is this Loki? I'm not so sure. Rather, maybe it's the true meaning of karma...

Now I think it's time to return to narratives of some of my life's wanderings. There is a lot yet to come of Canada and the USA in the 1960s and early 1970s, then Asia, then Australia. I'm writing this from Indonesia, so even today the list keeps growing. Long may it go on going on!!

Gordon Barlow

Catching up with this old post of mine... The politicians of the day came after me with a vengeance, and have persecuted me off and on ever since. Much credit to a Jamaican newspaper who criticised my political enemies, and to an online tax-haven site that ridiculed the pols as "hill-billies". I flew an English QC over here for a consultation, and I took my case to a few selected UK politicians; the FCO sided with me for reasons of its own, presumably. I clung on by my fingertips. We sent Ross to a boarding school in England just in case.

Then the #2 newspaper on the Island - owned by a native Caymanian sympathizer - offered to publish articles from me on the basis of no pay, no censorship. I began with sensible essays helpful to local businesses. When I had enough confidence in my writing skills, I switched to political commentaries, under the same title, "Everybody's Business". Up till then, criticism of local politicians was strictly forbidden, An anonymously and irregularly published semi-literate roneo'd sheet - a samizdat - was the only exception. My columns were well written, logical, to-the-point, and actually signed in my own name. Yes! Fancy that! They became so popular so quickly, that they caught the pols flat-footed. A hero to some, and a zero to others, I was too high-profile to be thrown onto the next plane out.

In time, the newspaper went broke because government had withdrawn all its advertising. Another paper started up and gave me the same deal, until it too went broke for lack of government advertising. I guess the column was a Turning Point for them as well as for me!

Gordon Barlow

My son (visiting from Norway) has just reminded me of another Life's Turning Point, from the days when I was fighting to stay in Cayman in 1989. Linda and I had tentatively decided to leave here - to sell out and make a new life in England. The local secondary school here was a bit of shambles at the time, but a friend of ours was a Director of a school in Derbyshire, so Ross and I (he was 14) flew over to check it out. If we all approved, I would sniff around and see what jobs might be available reasonably close to the school. There'd be no boarding school for our boy, thank you very much!

But, well... "Dad, would we go back to Cayman during the school holidays?" "No. old chap. Sorry. but we couldn't afford to do that three times a year!" But he had a super job here working every weekend filling oxygen tanks at a scuba place - no wage, but all the dives he could manage. Living the dream! We couldn't take that away from him. So we stayed - Linda keeping her well-paid job in a law firm, me resisting all attempts to deport me for subversion, Ross doing his scuba thing every weekend and during school vacations.

Linda became a lawyer and Notary Public in her 60s, I a voice for oppressed migrant workers and human rights in general. Ross qualified as a scuba instructor on his 18th birthday, before lucking into a professional model's job in Mexico City, then joining the hippie community on Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. Turning Points all round!