An old friend once said, “You can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the morning.”

We are not morning drinkers. We occasionally have wine or beer with lunch, but it’s rare. We typically open a bottle of wine in the evening and pour ourselves a glass as we start cooking dinner. Some of the wine goes into the food. Whatever’s left is carried to the table. Mornings are reserved for coffee and Steven’s famously gray, spinach-infused fruit shakes.
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This is not to say that we can’t be rallied to the cause. We are more than capable of drinking all day. Anyone who doubts this or would like to get incriminating video needs only to attend Hospice du Rhône in Paso Robles, California.

Last week, on Saint Patrick’s Day, Steven turned 42. Andrea passed that milestone in early December. Being fans of the late Douglas Adams, we consider the number 42 monumentally important. For those who have not read the Hitchhiker’s Guide, 42 is the answer to the question of life, the universe and everything. Most of the book builds to this punch line. If you haven’t read it, now is an excellent time to start hating us.
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We decided that the best way to celebrate this landmark was hop a plane to Maui. We assumed there would be no better place to contemplate the meaning and consequences of getting older than on a beach facing an open ocean. We were right, but not for the reasons we assumed. We came in search of grand metaphors involving waves gradually reducing lava fields to pristine, black sand. We hoped to find some special meaning in the humpback whales jumping and playing offshore in the endless blue of the Pacific. It turned out that best metaphors were marooned on shore among the odd mishmash of families with children, geriatric retirees, college kids on spring break and local surfers working odd jobs to earn just enough money to stay perpetually high. There are an infinite number of ways we can choose to age. Ka’anapali beach resort is a place where all of the most common choices are on display like criminals in police lineup.