I am starting to feel like Claude Rains. Not the "Major Renault" Claude Rains, but the "Dr. Jack Griffins" Claude Rains: the invisible man. I suspect that other expatriates have had this feeling. The feeling that I just do not belong in Oregon is getting stronger: that I am supposed to fit in somewhere else.
I come from a tribe of wanderers, as do many other Americans. Part of my family meandered from England to Holland, and then to Plymouth colony. Unhappy with events in the late 1700s, they moved to Quebec, then to North Dakota and Minnesota, and then to Oregon. My genes do not predispose me to settle and be content. I crave change.
I feel bored with my job. I do not feel inspired with my church duties. My body, my soul, my mind -- all look for something new.
Dr. Griffins developed a drug that eventually made him invisible to his environment. I am not that far along. At the moment, I am more like Marty McFly: I am starting to see through my hand. And if I do not move along, I will be every bit as invisible as any HG Wells character.
Several times I have referred to some personal things I need to tend to before I can retire and leave for Mexico. I intend to post some of them in the future -- but not right now.
