The Listmeister

Overall, I am thankful to be a Type A personality. It's made me lots of money. But it has its drawbacks, and sometimes it's just plain exhausting.

Being organized has always enabled me to find success.  It has served me well over the course of my lifetime - from a kid with a paper route (well, it was actually my brother, Marty's, but he made me do it), to my stint as an altar boy getting up early on Saturday mornings to be at church and in my vestments by 6:00 a.m., and through my years as a student who was rewarded with decent marks upon graduating from university. My father, Donald, an industrial engineer for the Boeing Company and highly organized and structured himself, would make list upon list for us as kids - which we hated at the time - to keep us occupied during our summer months and vacations.  There were Plan A's and Plan B's for everything, sometimes even a Plan C.  So planning ahead and listing are in my DNA, thanks to my dear old dad.

Organization was an essential part of my teaching career later in life, and listing was a skill I refined over the course of my 30 year tenure just to keep my head above water with the demands I had.  I would have lists of lists, clipboards full of them.   And when I go camping, of course there's a list for that, too. I am the Listmeister. Without a list, I'm lost! 

When this trip to Antarctica crystallized within a matter of 72 hours only three short weeks ago, my first instinct was to grab pen and paper and - well, you guessed it.  There was the To Do List, the Buy List, the Pack List, the Order on eBay List, the Don't Forget to E-mail List, the How Many Q-Tips Should I Bring? List, and finally my favorite items on the What You'd Never Want to Be Stuck in Antarctica Without List.

Items on THAT LIST include a razor  (if I let my hair and beard grow out, I swear I would return home after two weeks looking like a homeless clown - or Ted Kaczynski, The Unabomber.  Trust me, it would not be a pretty sight.), my hand sanitizer  (which, as everyone who knows me at all will tell you,  I can't live without -especially after countless airplane rides, water fountains, airport restrooms, handshakes, doorknobs, et cetera, and germs that have been active and breeding for tens of thousands of years on the other side of the globe?? Oh hell no! My list of toiletries included several small bottles of this must-have, life-saving product! It was actually one of the first things on my list.), five packs of my favorite gum  (the best gum in ANY hemisphere North or South, which happens to be called "Polar Ice"- how fitting considering my destination!) to help with crowded, uncomfortable airplane seating as well as altitude adjustments while in the air, an arsenal of AA batteries  (how tragic would it be to run out of them so far from the nearest Walgreen's?), chargers for everything  (the computer, the cell phone, the iPod...all this technology takes planning!!), three pair of reading glasses  (accounting for losing one, crunching one and hopefully one to spare), a full bottle of deodorant  (for obvious reasons).  There are more; those are just the tip of the iceberg!

Unlike any other trip I've taken to relatively civilized areas of the world, even into those distant, Third World countries like Nepal or Morocco, I always counted on having access to goods. I always knew there would eventually, inevitably be some little shop or corner pharmacy I could count on to replenish some necessary supply or lost item. With this particular journey to Antarctica to such an absolutely remote, uninhabited region of the planet with no stores, no resources, no shopping or do-overs, it means being having to be a little obssesive/compulsive.  It's "remember everything" or suffer.

Fortunately, tonight, more than 36 hours - a full day and a half - before I leave for Sea-Tac Airport and fly away to Tierra del Fuego, my bags are officially packed, and all but a few things remain from the scrolls of lists that have ruled my life for almost twenty one days.  I even have my toothbrush packed.  I'm done!  I feel like a kid going to camp for the first time.

Type A, Plan A, ready to go ridiculously early, check/check/check/and check again...Thank you, Dad.