Playing cricket at Long Bay beach, Auckland, New Zealand.
Yours truly, not out; Ian Warn, wicketkeeper.
 

Yes, I am back in the USA — having survived another America's Cup. My body is here, at any rate, but it's taking a while to get my brain orientated. I still think in terms of two time zones, two currencies, driving on the left side of the road, looking right instead of left before crossing the street, and going for a beer at the pub with my mates to watch cricket or the Friday night footie on the tellie ...

The first time I took my neglected pick-em-up truck for a spin, I had to consciously remind myself to drive on the right. The first time I tried to signal a turn, I switched on the windshield wipers. I've driven on the left side of the road a few times — fortunately without incident. But it'll be right, mates. No worries, eh.

I put on my wristwatch the other day — and only noticed later that it was still on New Zealand time. (Subliminal indication that I didn't really want to leave New Zealand?) I was wondering why it had gotten dark so early.

My body clock is all catawhompus, too. I keep thinking it's fall instead of spring. When I heard that it snowed in New York the other day, I thought, "What's everyone surprised about? It's that time of year. Snowed in the South Island weeks ago." But it's not that time of year here. It's flower pickin' time.

Several people asked me if I wasn't overjoyed — happy as Larry, as it were — at being back on good ol' US of A soil. The implication that there is no better place to be. My answer: Not particularly.

Not Ready to Leave
Yes, it is good to be home. I missed Janis dearly. I missed sleeping in my own bed. I missed our quiet cul-de-sac in tranquil Alcala Knolls.

But that said, I wasn't ready to leave New Zealand. I didn't see as much of the country as I had intended. Plus, I made some good friends there and it wasn't easy saying goodbye to them. Janis and I are already planning a return trip.

Living in New Zealand — aside from the noise in the immediate vicintiy of my center-city apartment — was pleasant. Life moves at a wee bit slower pace there and, for the most part, the Kiwis are a friendly bunch and quick to offer assistance to strangers or those in need.

What's more, with an exchange rate of roughly 50 U.S. cents to the N.Z. dollar, it was comparatively cheap to live there. If you're looking for a place to holiday, New Zealand is not only an excellent value, but a great place to visit.

Time to Go
Nevertheless, it was time for me to go home. The signs were there — the most obvious sign being that I could identify every member of the Kiwi international cricket team on sight, not to mention most of the Australians. When I had the opportunity, I would sit mesmerized, eyes glued to the tellie, watching every bowl and swing of the bat during a test match. And I thought golf fans were pathetic.

Fellow journos and Kiwi mates Helen Tunnah and Steve McMoran took me to the opening day of the second New Zealand v. Australia test match. Good fun — even though the Aussies made the Kiwis look like a Sunday pub team.

I even got a chance to whack a cricket ball. We had a pick-up game at the Quokka Beach Party (on one of our rare days off). I contributed to taking three wickets (outs). Unfortunately, one of them was my own. I absentmindedly let the bat hit the wicket and stumped myself. And I was on my way to a century at the time (cricket-speak for scoring 100 runs). Well, maybe 50. Go ahead, call me a drongo.

I was also anticipating the start of the Super 12 rugby series. Rugby is to New Zealand what baseball is to the U.S.

Bottom line: You know that when a Yank gets that involved in cricket (I was supposed to be making fun of it, not enjoying it), not to mention rugby (footie), it's time to go. Thank goodness for the Internet. I can get my fix on either sport online.

What to "Do"?
These days I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to "do" now that my alleged holiday in New Zealand is over. The timeless question: What AM I going to DO???

It's a good question. Janis is wondering that herself. What ARE you going to DO, Leapin' Larry?

Apparently she doesn't think sorting through boxes of photos, assembling photo albums, taking long walks in Tecolote Canyon, and cooking dinner for her constitute a financially sound career path.

If you have any suggestions, pass them along. The winning idea will get you an autographed cricket ball — the runner-up gets two autographed cricket balls.

           Cheers, mates,
           Larry