ESCAPE ARTIST l The misadventures of one man on the run from commitment, responsibility, and any job requiring nice shoes… by Terence Loose

Escape Artist | A few years ago, I woke up shivering cold on a deflated camping mattress in a friend’s spare room. Like the camping mattress, I was broke. I also had no car, no job, no prospects, and a pregnant wife by my side (yes, mine). I was 35 and starting over from scratch. It was like the day after college graduation, only without the crushing hangover and silly hat.

As in college, I had spent the few years prior chasing pure fun, utterly denying the demands of the modern world and basically shirking responsibility whenever I could. It started two years before, my wife Gayl and I had sold our house, our cars, and anything else that wouldn’t fit aboard a 32-foot sailboat and left our nine-to-five cubicled existence astern to sail to the South Pacific in search of adventure, freedom and anyplace that didn’t accept MasterCard. For those two years, our biggest decision was whether to go for a cocktail in the cockpit or a sunset snorkel. … Continue Reading