To be clear: we have all loved our time here in Malaysia. It’s objectively pleasant to be in a country full of wonderful people where the temperature runs in the 70s to low 80s all year round. Beyond that, watching my children learn what living internationally can teach — and the expected and surprising lessons for myself and my lovely and talented wife — are a gift. Malaysia is great. Travel is great. Life traveling in Malaysia is great.
I spent the last 10 days doing absurdly awesome things with absurdly awesome people. In two weeks, I’ll spend another 20 days doing arguably even more absurdly awesome things with equally absurdly awesome people. A small representative sample of the activities I’m talking about:
- Swimming in a jungle river miles from civilization
- Teaching my youngest son how to say and when to use the Litany Against Fear
- Watching muay thai matches in Bangkok
- Running up a jungle river to visit orangutans
- Playing D&D at a table with three native languages
- Absolutely not peeing a little when a scorpion the size of a small car appeared a meter from my feet
- Riding elephants on a safari in Nepal
When I share some of these things, or even more pedestrian parts of my life like writing for a living or spending a year abroad, a lot of people say the same thing:
As most of you know, the literary world became much poorer late last week with the passing of Sir Terry Pratchett. Sir Pratchett’s work bridged the gap between fiction and philosophy, and…
…it’s hard to come up with adequate praise for the man’s body of work…
…let’s go with…
…Sir Pratchett’s novels didn’t just make me wish I was a better writer. It made me want to be a better person.
I cannot write well enough to comment adequately on the man’s death. So I’ll leave it to him: