Keying Out

I hate keys. I hate carrying them, I hate using them.

Keys are a sign of responsibilities and burdens. On my own 14 oz key ring, I have:

4 house keys because everything needs to be locked down like a prison in this town

4 Office keys (the front door - which needs to be repaired, by the way) has three alone

1 bike lock key, because people steal shit in this town

1 huge car key, complete with an alarm setting - a constant reminder not only of how vulnerable my vehicle is, but how much money I still owe

1 key to the tenants door, in case I have to cope with some emergency

Every key is another thing I have to do, another dose of pressure, another expense.

My kids don't carry keys. They leave the house with nothing in their pockets at all.

That's freedom.

The good news is that, starting today, I do not need them.

For the next 23 days, we're going to Europe. Oh the things we will see. But, more important to me are the things we leave behind: the problems, the responsibilities, the commitments, the payments and the routine.

Sure, on a long trip, 'life as it was' will simply be lurking like a timebomb, ready to blow our peace somehow. Relaxation is best - and perhaps only - available in small doses.

But off we go, to the home of Hitler, lederhosen and copious liters of lager. (Is that a good combination...?)