Finality

Row 15, seat G. I'm supposed to be in seat D, but there was someone sitting in that seat when I boarded. Not important though because seats G and D are both aisle seats on flight KL0667. We're in the middle column of this big ass jet. 3 seats in each of the left, middle, and right columns. Tons of rows. How the hell does this thing even get off the ground? Busi brought that up while we were in Johannesburg on this trip and I did some research have a theory: Planes are actually a tell that all of this isn't real. There's just no way. Planes are too ridiculous. Next time, come up with something a little more reasonable, maker. Either that or make everything else as unreasonable as planes.

I have 5 hours and 51 minutes left of this ten hour flight from Amsterdam to Austin. Before that I had a two hour layover plus two hour delay at AMS airport. Before that, eleven hours from Johannesburg to Amsterdam. And before that, time spent in the city where Busi grew up, in order to be with her family and mourn the loss of her dad.

It was such an unexpectedly bittersweet trip. I mean, it didn't take a shaman to predict the bitter part. There was heavy sadness when we got the news and I knew there would be lots more tears on faces before, during, and after the services in Soweto. And sure enough, it was and will be sad even as time goes on.

There is a word that has stuck with me, that I once read on a facebook post of all places where you wouldn't expect to find anything profound, ever. The word was written by a friend of a friend who passed away at a very young age, and who was left a tribute by this fb poster. I don't remember the rest of the post, or even the full sentence. But I remember the first few words: "The finality of your passing has me feeling..."

To me, that word--finality--levies the full weight of the loss of a loved one. Everything else that happens in life has something after it. Take your worst most miserable downswing in poker, and know that even by name there is more to the story. It's "down" swing, not "zero" swing. Or even if it did lead you to zero street, and you leave poker, you still find your way into something else. #whenwillitend was a funny but also sincere hashtag that was making its way around the poker world at one point, describing that type of negative poker torture. But there's always something on the other end, eventually. Just a matter of when.

I was chatting with one of the late Mr. Buthelezi's friends at the funeral, and I said something typical of a person who doesn't really know what else to say at a funeral. "It's a sad day, but it's so great seeing all of these people here and hearing so many stories from them about how Themba impacted their lives..."

Without skipping a beat, the man replied, "We don't believe it's a sad day. We know where we are going. We know we are all going there. This is a celebration and a tribute. It is not sad."

Maybe it isn't finality. Maybe Themba Buthelezi is hanging out with the guy who lazily created planes.

--

I'm lucky to have been able to do lots of traveling over the years, starting in my early twenties. It's interesting to me how travel feels different as you change as a person. The first time I went to South Africa, I had proper culture shock. Especially in Soweto, where I was the only white person in the neighborhood where Busi's family house is. I was a bit younger, I think 34 maybe? I guess I was doing ok in poker, but hadn't started the YouTube vlog yet. So that was a time when I wasn't really sure what direction my life would go. And, for me at least, that uncertainty spills over to all things in life. The time we spent in the neighborhood on that trip was enjoyable--Busi's uncle walked with me down the street to a neighborhood shebeen, which essentially is their version of an unlicensed bodega, to pick up some beers. Sounds simple, but seeing the looks of everyone that we walked by is an experience I'll never forget. Looking back now, those looks existed, but were exaggerated in my mind by the inner uncertainties in my own life.

This recent trip was my third experience in the country, and while the circumstances, as mentioned, were of course sad, the time spent in the different neighborhoods around Jo'burg were my favorite. We didn't go on safari, we didn't travel to the beach in Durban, we didn't fly to Cape Town like on previous adventures. We just existed, going out to dinner, seeing people, and even getting some work done. I wrote and recorded the full voiceover for one of my vlogs, and Busi traded the markets every weekday. At night we went out to dinner in Randburg or Craighall or Sandton, and every day was just... nice. Nice weather every day, nice people everywhere, and no culture shock. I didn't feel like an outsider this time. I've defined myself a little more in life, I know who I am a little more--not fully, just more--and all of that packaged together made for a super enjoyable time just being there together.

--

When I moved from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, I figured I'd move back to LA after a few years or so. Eventually I shifted that dream to owning property in both Vegas and LA, to be able to shoot back and forth whenever I felt like it. That dream still exists, I still want homes in those places. But I'd also like one in Michigan. And NYC. And now, for sure after this last trip, in South Africa. It's just ridiculous that when this dude made these "planes" that he didn't make them go faster. I still have 5 hours to go on this "flight" ffs.