I recently wrapped up an 18-day tour that took me to 13 different cities.  While that sounds very exciting, the best thing about a tour of that length and diversity is that it reminds you of every single thing that you miss about being home.  Here is a partial list of the little things I missed over the past (nearly) three weeks.  My original list had 25 items.  I shortened it.

Regular workouts. Physical exertion is my most important strategy for managing stress.  Without it, I found myself feeling perpetually harried and frumpy.

Dave and Boone

Happy hour. At 5:00 PM everyday at home, I leap to my feet and yell, “HAPPY HOUR!” and our indoor dogs (Bob and Boone) then chase me around the kitchen before I make it rain ice cubes from the refrigerator water dispenser.  It looks even worse than you are currently imagining.

My lovely bride’s gourmet dinners. I try to treat myself to nice dinners while I travel, but nothing compares to the culinary bliss that Lori creates six nights a week.  My job is to find a wine that pairs with her meal.  I love that.  Which leads to…

Pizza night. Every Friday, the Mitchells watch Cops, eat pizza, and drink David Hill Farmhouse Red.  The pizza varies from homemade to local pizza specialists and even Papa Murphy’s take-and-bake.  The wine varies, too, but is always an inexpensive but wonderful red blend.  Cops is the constant.  Nothing makes you feel better about your life decisions than 30 minutes of Cops.

The Walking Dead, The Middle, Modern Family, and Hell’s Kitchen. I will go several days and never turn on a television while I travel, but at home I love settling into the couch to watch television with my honey.

Dogs. Canines are the creature companion equivalent of comfort food.  Something about lying on the couch with a furry friend nestled next to you makes even the worst day fade fast.  My ultimate goal is to achieve a state of mindfulness that compares to Boone dog’s.

Your own bed. I stay at some nice hotels, but no amount of thread count and heavenly comforters can compare to the sound of my own fan, the finely honed divot in the mattress, and the just so wear and tear of my own blanket.

My lovely bride. The road is a lonely place.  I feel fortunate to do what I love and meet so many amazing people while doing it.  Some of my best friends are the people I have met on my travels.  But when I return from the road to “blue eyes, sunny smile,” I still melt after 29 years.

Sometimes I wonder if I would have the same level of appreciation for these simple pleasures if I were home every night.  I think not.  That is the beauty of the road.  It teaches you that the very best things in life are the most simple.