Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Ross
Travelers never think that they are the foreigners.
Mason Cooley
Ross Geiger turns 24 today. Twenty. Frigging. Four. Somebody bring me some oxygen.
And how will my oldest son celebrate the occasion of his turning two score plus four? Hold that thought whilst I consult the Red-Headed kid’s itinerary. Let me see…ah, here it is. If it’s a Wednesday in March, then the odds are good that after a day of slaving over a hot spreadsheet, Ross will be hoisting a frothy stein or three in a Bavarian hofbräu located somewhere in beautiful downtown Munich.
Munich? As in Germany? Ja!
Back in January, before Boston got buried in enough snow he could have opened the windows of his fifth-floor walkup and slalomed his way to work, Ross packed his computer and khaki’s and headed to Germany for a ten-week work assignment with Solon Management Consulting, the European partner of his employer, Altman Vilandrie & Company. Based Monday thru Friday in Munich, once the weekend rolled around Ross could be found anywhere a Eurail Pass and a backpack would take him. During a three week slice of Ross’ Excellent European Adventure, he traveled from Munich to Salzburg (Austria), back to Munich, cruised to Bruges (Belgium), high-tailed it back to Munich, whisked off to Warsaw (Poland), jetted to London, boomeranged back to Warsaw, and then returned to Munich. Just typing all this makes me exhausted.
The Pretty Blond and I received an update every weekend, though it was frequently a coin flip as to where our red-headed son was calling us from. The only thing we could count on was Ross’ preferred mode of travel, which can only be defined as CHEAP (mom’s DNA, not dad’s). And while he loves sharing stories about exploring new towns and countries, Ross giggles with unabated excitement over discovering $4 dinners and $20 hotel rooms. I’d understand if he was in Burma. But Belgium?
Based on the stamps in his passport, Ross has taken it upon himself during his first 23 years on the world stage to A) build houses for the poor in Mexico, B) crash a karate competition in Japan, C) marinate for a summer in China, D) hobble on crutches around Southeast Asia, and E) frequent-flyer his way through a Canadian consulting gig. Not that I’m insanely jealous or anything, but every so often I need to remind my son that the most exotic locale his dear old Dad ever visited at his age was a lovely little hamlet located next to a Denny’s restaurant on I-5. Some place that rhymed with Brockton.
Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Ross. Make it one to remember.