Right This Way Sir Your Ride Is Waiting (ms)

At one point in my younger years I thought seriously that the best thing to do with my life was to work the carnival. I even got so far as the trailer office of the carny that came to town that year but I backed out in the last few steps. Gave up a golden opportunity I did. Then again, maybe not.

I think it was the wanderlust that made me do it. Even then I had it and to tell the truth it never really went away. When you get down to it most of my working life has been spent on the road but with one major exception: my trips are always round trips. I come back home, like the proverbial bad penny, turning up at the front door of the ranch sometimes in the middle of the night if the ride was long and the roads bad. I like coming home.

Still, there are evenings when I walk a darkened road a block away and on clear and moonless nights the sky is alive with moving blinking colored dots. They are jet aircraft going about their business of taking people here and there sometimes cross country, sometimes cross oceans to end up on the other side of the globe when all is finished.

I imagine the plane is at cruising altitude, that magic time in the flight when the captain tells everyone they can sit back, relax and enjoy the flight. The cabin attendants will be along shortly to allow you to buy all the necessities like food and drink but there are the complimentary peanuts or pretzels, your choice. I imagine people reading, watching the movie, sleeping or aimlessly staring out the window at the bright dots of the cities  below. I want to be one of them some nights and I think at such times I would like to fly until I reached the other side of the world or I maxed out my credit cards.

There are times I confess to entertaining the thought of just speeding past my usual exit and going on until I hit another state or perhaps another country. I would stop somewhere, have breakfast, talk to some locals in a small town and head off again down to the next town along the road. They don’t even need to be towns really, villages or even wide spots in the road will do just so long as they’re some place I can hang my hat for a few hours and shoot the breeze. I read a book by someone who did that once. He went in search of America and found quite a bit of it. The wanderlust had him too it seems.

Well of course I won’t do any of those things. Like I did when I was a kid I would back out of the idea a few steps from the door or just before I hit my usual Interstate exit. I am in my comfort zone now and it is not big enough for thoughts of extensive wanderings. Just as well. I don’t think the boss at the carnival would hire me anyway.

–Mike Stevens

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~ by admin on June 5, 2011.

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