The story begins with Fletch's addiction to conservative talk media's nonstop talk about the victimhood of hardworking Americans. Fletch's consumption of NSN news and his conversations with his golf buddies create a feedback loop of anger and victimhood. It's a quiet, elusive poison that isolates him from the people he loves most. There is a sense of suffocation as Fletch regurgitated talking points, unable to have an actual conversation. This theme is incredibly timely and added a layer of social commentary that gave his personal struggle a broader, more tragic weight. It evoked a feeling of sadness for the connections lost to this kind of division.

Fletch identified with his work. In retirement, he tried to replace it with a manufactured leisure (the RV) and manufactured outrage (conservative talk media). Neither filled the void. This is a story about the meaning of a purposeful life. It isn't something you buy or something that's fed to you; it's something you must discover through genuine effort. Fletch's goal to hike El Campanario is the first authentic purpose he has had in years. This created a sense of inspiration and hope as hetraded his recliner (pre-coffin) recliner for hiking boots, choosing a difficult, meaningful path over a comfortable, empty one.

We are all ultimately defined by the events in our lives I'm no exception. The first defining experience in my life was contracting Bulbar Polio at eighteen months of age.
My second experience was being raised in Gilbert, Arizona, during the fifties and sixties. It was an idyllic Southwest community of mid-twentieth century American. The population was around 1800 people, including those who lived outside the city limits.

My wife (also a Gilbert girl) live in Marana, Arizona, a northwestern suburb of Tucson. She's also my best friend, my squeeze, doubles as my editor, and is my most ardent fan and my most vocal critique.