It seems to me that it used to be easier to travel . For me , I mean ; I don’t know about you .
When I was in my late teens and early twenties I used to do a little hitchhiking . I had a rubberized bag with a drawstring that was long enough for me to loop it around my shoulder . I used the thing for carrying schoolbooks around campus and also for traveling .
By the way , before we go any further with the travel idea , I should point out a spelling difference I’ve intentionally included in this diatribe ( archaic use of the word ‘diatribe’). You may have already noticed . I know that some of you certainly have , and perhaps you were ready to point it out to me . But if you haven’t noticed , then I certainly won’t point it out to you . I’ll leave you alone . No one likes a bully or a know-it-all . It’s no skin off my nose anyhows , as they say , or something like that . Maybe they say : ‘Doesn’t make no never mind’ ; or ,’ It don’t matter no how’ . I’ll tell you at the end of this post , nevertheless , if you didn’t notice and if you’re
still reading curious .
So . Wait .
So , moving along , I used to pack this rubberized sack with an extra t-shirt , an extra pair of underwear , and my toothbrush and take off into the unknown . Maybe I’d hitch from L.A. up to Oregon to see my sister . Once or twice I hitched up to Santa Cruz to stay with my friends Eric and Trisha . Didn’t matter . Slept in parks or under freeway bridges or in a clump of bushes when I had to ; once on a flimsy cot in a storage shed in Rosarito , Mexico .
I sold my 1960 Opel Olympia to a friend and neighbor , Jim , in 1970 for one hundred bucks and two weeks later he said that he was driving it to Philadelphia. We were at the beach in L.A. I told him the thing wouldn’t make it across country . I thought he was half-crazy for suggesting it .
He asked me if I wanted to go . I thought it over for an hour or so and said sure . I packed my little bag and we went . And Jim was right after all . Took us four days to cross the continent , driving in shifts . And then the car , by the way , wouldn’t start in the Pennsylvania winter and Jim abandoned it .
I don’t travel like that now . Are you kidding me ? But I should . These days I , first , have to be sure that I take my reading glasses and my medications and my sun screen , q-tips to clean out my ears and all the necessary electronic stuff with chargers , and maybe a flashlight……. Then , I decide after very studious consideration , that I need extras of this and of that , and maybe also of these and probably of those . Just in case , you know . A Boy Scout is always prepared , I always tell Ada .
I was never a Boy Scout , though , I should admit up front . I never even had so much contact with scouts as to own a Boy Scout knife , with all those little doo-dads including the pair tiny scissors and a nail file , although maybe I’m getting that mixed up with the Swiss Army knife . Am I ? But I think that the Boy Scout knife of old , at least , is similar to the famous Swiss Army knife , ‘cept without the Swiss flag or the cork screw . But I’m not really sure . I was never a Boy Scout . I tried once to join , actually ; but that’s another tale for another time . We’re talking here in this post about my recent trip to Georgia . Well , that was my original goal , but I get sidetracked .
Oh , about that spelling thing : ” travelling ” and ” traveling “. Did you notice ? Whichever one you like better you can , apparently , use without being condemned by the language authorities or arrested by the word police . The two “l” version is more in British style , I guess . I won’t mention how the Brits have muddied-up the lingo , that’ll have to wait for a later post , so let’s , as I am wont to say ( not quite sure what ‘wont ‘ means , but it sounds right here ; gives the piece , I hope , gravitas ) , move along with the travel theme. Not to bully , but try to keep up . If you’ve hung in this far , then you may as well hang in there for a bit more . Why not ? Anyway , like the end of a roller coaster ride or something : too late now !
Ada and I went recently to the country of Georgia . The Poles call it another name . I’m sure the Germans and the Greeks and the Sudanese and the Kuala Limpurians and the other world’s countries have a name in their own lingos for Georgia . The people of Georgia have their own name for their home , too . It’s not Georgia . In Tiblisi , the capital , there is a very tall white stone pedestal column with a golden statue of Saint George slaying the dragon at the top . I thought that guy was English . Shows what I know .