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I am reading "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho, about a young shepherd who follows his dream to go to the pyramids in Egypt and along the way learns to read omens, understand the vast desert and (hopefully, since I am only to page 106) gets the girl.

People seem to have a preponderancy to yearn for the distant horizon, for romantic, exotic lands where riches hide, women dress immodestly, and the air conditioning in hotels never fails.

Now, I grew up in Los Angeles. And so, of course, Hollywood, the Sunset Strip, Malibu, Beverly Hills were just places. Like Pacific Palisades was simply where my dad taught on Thursdays. My mom lived in North Hollywood for a couple of years, and you could see that stupid sign on the hill.

So what was the big deal?

And then fortunately the dude I married made the error (repeatedly) of signing re-enlistment contracts, so we got to see Europe at your taxpayer expense. Once again, it is perfectly normal to walk along the Rhine river - to cross international borders to go shopping - to see castles on the horizon.

Guess what was next? You got it. Hawaii.

Six years overlooking the city of Honolulu from the bedroom window. Working at Pearl Harbor and downtown Honolulu. Kids going to Moanalua Elementary and Aloha Christian Day Care in Pearl City. Going to the beach on the windward side of Oahu. Watching beach volleyball and professional surfing competitions.

Now Maryland was not quite so glamorous, but it still impressed people that we lived two miles from NSA - my kids' field trips were to the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History (I just love that elephant) - and I could tell them that the Capital Mall wasn't an enclosed shopping center with a huge department store at one end.

Arizona - well, living three miles from the Mexican border is both less scary and more scary that you imagine, Tombstone (OK Corral, gunfights, all that) is just the other side of Sierra Vista, and I can see the road to Coronado's cave from my front door.

But now I am taking a trip to visit my grandkids - spend quality time that is NOT on my cell phone with my oldest daughter - relax and be there for her birthday (I won't mention what number bday it is, but it begins with a 3 and ends with a 0).

SO WHY IS EVERYONE SO EXCITED THAT I AM GOING TO HAWAII TO DO THIS?!

YOU'RE IN THE ARMY NOW

Pre-1984, the concept of living in Hawaii ranked right in there along with images of hiking the entire Appalachian Trail, riding a camel across the Sahara, or climbing Mt. Everest.

People did it, there were pictures in the National Geographic to prove it.

But it wasn’t something that I would ever go or do.

People did live in Hawaii - I knew there were military assignments there - but it was like waiting for a bus that ain’t never, ever gonna come to your stop.

Plus the Army had not proven to be extremely reliable for our family over the past six years.

Bill was scheduled to go to Ft. Ord, in Monterey, California - beautiful coastal landscape that runs below San Francisco - as soon as he completed the M.P. training in Alabama.

Instead, we went to Ft. Riley, Kansas.

Bill got orders for Okinawa, an island south of Japan.

Then suddenly we were going to Giessen... West Germany.

But then the office in Giessen was bombed.

So we ended up in Duesseldorf.

I figured if we requested Hawaii, we would end up in Arkansas - Alaska - or Guam.

I seriously refused to believe it. Until the plane landed in Honolulu in June 1984.