My Way [ AN I PI R S ]

My Way, with profound apologies to the late, great Chairman of the Board, Frank Sinatra

And now, as home is near,

And so I face the final worsen.

My friends, I'll drink a beer;

I'd tell you the stories, but only in person.

I've went on a vacation that was bliss -

I drove 700 miles on Scottish highway.

And as always; I'm right on this,

I did it my way.

Lagers? Ales? I've had a few,

But then again, too few to numb me.

I did what I had to do

And saw it through though others doubt me.

I planned each charted view -

Each careful stop along the highway,

I herded kittens, as they mew,

I did it my way.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you heard,

Some thought I acted rough, I was a turd,

But through it all, when there was doubt,

I sucked it up and let them pout.

I let them bitch, then swerved towards a ditch

And did it my way.

I'd planned, I'd called and mapped,

I'd done all the work for this vacation.

But now, as beers subside,

I am rewarded by damnation.

To think I did all that,

And may I say, not in a shy way -

Oh no. Oh no, not me.

I did it my way.

For what is a man? What has he got?

I clipped three mirrors, that's almost naught.

Can't say the things that make him strive

Like "shut up whack-job and let me drive."

The record shows I took the blows

And did it my way.

Yes, it was my way.

Note, Mark planned a 9-day vacation for 6 family members and in-laws in Scotland and England (originally just Scotland, but to accommodate others we also included England in the trip, but ironically not the town we thought we had to see…); including hotel, restaurants (ensuring all had vegetarian dishes), and airplane reservations. He mapped out over 25 potential attractions to see, including the "time on site", as well as mapped out obscure locations to distribute his mother-in-law's ashes, such as the hidden "danger waterfalls" in Glen Nevis, Scotland.

He drove over 700 miles - on the wrong side of the road - and despite what some (wrongly) predicted (N.B. diesel fuel is not technically flammable, so while we might've died in a crash, it certainly would not be a "fiery crash" ) I only "clipped" the passenger side mirror 3 times, but so little as to not leave a scratch. Almost like counting coups among the Plains Indians.

He may have seemed like a "travel Nazi" (and me without my Nohoki bracelet) but someone had to get us from Point A to Point B to Hotel in allotted Time X. He also tried to ensure that a daily web log (blog?) was posted; as were photos.