A Spiritually Enlightening Online Magazine. September's Theme: "Freedom"
Volume 7 Issue 6 ISSN# 1708-3265

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Illuminations Aleesha Stephenson About the Cover Gary Haggquist True Freedom Julie Hoyle The Colour Red Alegria Imperial It is Good to Feel Good Dj Brown I Am What I Am Until I Am A More Enhanced I Am Rev. Cheryl Jewett Where is Freedom? David Reber Freedom Child Martine Mathewson Cruise Ship Waste Standards David Suzuki PhD Pet-sense Jean Hofve DVM Life in the Raw Nicola Watt Po and the Stones Phil Kotofskie Walk Your Talk Aleesha Stephenson Wiccan Voices Crystal Blanton, HPs Let's Talk Tarot Marcia McCord Lifetalks Dawn Baumann Brunke Meditate a Moment Featuring: Aleesha Stephenson Cards & Curios Tarot Deck Reviews: with Dan Pelletier Archived Reviews All of T.S.M.'s Reviews

Where Is Freedom? by David Reber The beginning of summer came and with it came time for my son to scoot off to summer camp. We set the date for his week away about two months ago. We got confirmation along with directions to drop him off mid day on a Sunday. It was about then I got to thinking… "Hey Wife," I said that evening to my honey-bunch, "let's take some time off ourselves, when we drop off the boy let's keep on going, get away for a few days." "Why Husband," she told her snookems, "A couple days of freedom? What a simply delicious idea!" (She really does talk like that.) I was absolutely tingly just at the thought of getting away for a bit of freedom. Over the next couple weeks I told everyone I was getting away. Everyone at work, and all my friends knew that right after we dropped the boy at camp we were off. So we said goodbye to the boy on that warm Sunday afternoon and kept on going. First bit o' fun was that we let the GPS dictate the route, the GPS that was set on the shortest route. What was normally a relatively straight forward drive across northern Ohio turned into a windy, construction laden, congested, bit of banjo, back roads and almost twice as long to get there. By the time we finally parked at the ferry I'd ground my molars to dust. The ferry ride to the island was actually quite delightful. The breeze across the Great Lakes was bracing and the sunset was beautiful. Too bad when we called to tell our innkeeper we were on the way, we couldn't reach her. No big deal, right? We'd just continue to enjoy the lovely evening by finding some restaurant with a great view, have a couple drinks and an incredible meal. Surely during all that time our innkeeper would return the call and all things would be wonderful again. Indeed the call did come in. Some glitch in our phone service sent the return call straight to voice mail. We never heard it ring. After dinner my wife noticed we had a message from our innkeeper who said, "I'm sorry but who are you again? I cannot find you in the books." Apparently there was a bit of my back teeth left as once again I was grinding. Turned out to be nothing more than a misunderstanding of course. She heard our name wrong on the phone message was all. Unfortunately it was hairy for us at the time as we came across on the evening's last ferry. We were stranded on the island no matter what and as we didn't right then have a room we were hiking with our luggage in tow. So things got cleared up. We ditched our luggage and went out for true freedom. It was a fair evening and a walk along the lakeside was just the thing. Several times we tried to stop in at several pubs but it was a Sunday night and the incident of straightening out our rooms put things late enough nothing was open. Well, that's not entirely true. One place we found absolutely refused to sell to us. I honestly do not understand that one at all. We sat right at the bar and every time we waved she looked right at us then moved to the other end of the bar. No doubt we were a bit gamey from traveling all day but that was just rude! So on we strolled, down the boardwalk. The next had a lot of promise, completely open to the gorgeous evening. Music wafted out of it, an old Motown hit. This place was going to be a good one, older songs meant older crowd right? Things started off well enough. The only people there were off-duty staff enjoying a quiet drink for a comrade's birthday. A group of them sat up by the man playing the keyboard and singing some great oldies. The off duty staff sat quietly at a front table and smiled with their arms around each other, rocking back and forth happily. Aww. Well, it all went to crap from there. Soon after the staff was dancing on the bar we were sitting at. I literally sat between the knees of some guy dancing with his feet on either side of my drink. To look up was to be reminded he wasn't wearing underwear in his loose shorts. The whole few days away was like this actually. Everywhere we went were lines and crowds of hot sweaty people all entirely too close and too large for the skin tight clothes they were wearing. I actually got home more tired and frustrated than when we left. So I walked into our house and dropped our bags, the air conditioning set at the temperature I like. It was like a kind embrace. That one moment was beautiful and so relaxing. At least until I saw the phones. Phones are a lot of the main reason it is hard to relax here. The business and home line are pretty much always blinking with requests from the outside world, things to be attended too. They weren't blinking! We had no incoming messages! I told my wife this and she laughed, "Everyone thinks we're still out of town!" I collapsed into my bed, the most comfortable bed ever, and for the first time felt truly free. A man's home really is his castle! Apparently all we had to do for a little freedom was just tell everyone we were leaving! Hello, I'm David Reber. Currently I'm trying very hard to live a simple, uncomplicated life. I really enjoy tying flies or writing bad fiction in some quiet corner near where my beautiful wife is working on one of her hobbies. I also enjoy long walks with her when the weather is nice and we can take our two Siberian Husky puppies, Annie and Chloey with us - or when the huskies take us for a run would be the proper description. Then of course there is the time we spend trying to keep the refrigerator stocked ahead of "Big J", our active son and his tape worm.

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