Last night, my husband and I were watching the Haiti coverage on CNN (again) feeling sad and helpless (again.) One reporter interviewed a couple from the US who lived there and ran one of the many orphanages near Port-au-Prince. Now, this couple looked like they belonged in Haiti just about as much as I do.
He: Cowboy hat, strong (strong!) Southern drawl. Some lawd-almighties were uttered and perhaps even a woo-doggy.
She: Same drawl, but higher in pitch. Platnium, cotton candy hair, brightly painted lips.
I opened my mouth and my husband looked at me, probably convinced I was going to say something snarky. Nine times out of ten, he'd be right. (Well, not so much about the Haiti coverage, but otherwise, yes.) But instead I said, "That's pretty cool. I wonder what their story is?"
He thought it was cool, too. In fact, my husband said he's always thought of doing something similar after he retired. Not necessarily an orphanage in Haiti, but something...I don't know...meaningful. "What am I going to do? Hang around the city all day and complain about the weather? Golf? I don't even like golf."
Strangely enough, I've been thinking about the same thing. I've wanted to do something Three-Cups-of-Tea-ish for a long time. Not now, mind you. Not while the kids are still in school. Later. And I don't know what, exactly. But I have some time to figure that out.
I've come close to bringing it up many times. It always sounded kind of flakey, (Hey honey, how about living in some godforsaken country in our golden years and doing, um, something?) so I never did.
It's great to know we are on the same page.