Hey, it's Major. What poems have you wanted to send to a friend or a loved one to help them slow down?

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I'm Major Jackson and this is...

I'm Major Jackson and this is the slowdown. The last time I camped, a wolf's howl gave me chills. It brought me closer to some primitive ancestor.

I fell asleep to fantasies of leading a pack through boreal forest.

The last time I can't I gazed on evening stars blinking their wondrous

code jeweling the dark sky. Regrettably I can no longer cuddle up inside a Downey sleeping bag and stare at their secret

language.

The uneven surface isn't kind to my back. Poor blood circulation prevents my body from

warming up enough to sleep through the night outdoors. A blow-up mattress so often emptied of air by sunrise only adds to my frustration.

As much as I enjoy camping, I can no longer set up a tent purely in the wild, amidst the elements.

I am at the stage where the only option is

Glamping.

Give me a Queen Platform bed with organic linens.

My outdoor adventures must come with electricity, a heated, full-sized yurt, and a coffee maker.

Forget bending down to a gas camping stove. Give me an on-site chef who will deliver

gourmet sandwiches in a splint oak woven basket.

If smores will be had, then let them torch over a smokeless fire pit.

What is unexchangeable is company.

Something about outdoor camping remains decidedly romantic.

...