On the Road Again

A Conestoga Wagon
19th Century Wander-lust
Each fall, Mary and I make our annual trek to Florida. It is always a fun trip. We take three and a half days to go from Lancaster, PA to Venice, FL. Leaving loved ones behind is just a bit more difficult since 9/11. On the other hand, life comes with no guarantees. Undoubtedly, our final demise will be something other than biological warfare or terrorist bombing. So, life goes on.

Each fall I get this strong urge to head south. The permanent residents of Florida call us snowbirds, but any ancestral connection to birds is pretty far back along the evolutionary ladder. Could my first name (Jay) have anything to do with it? Perhaps, but I doubt it.

People have gotten wanderlust since the beginning of time. There were good reasons for some to take off. Cain was in serious trouble after knocking off his brother, Abel. He took off for the land of Nod. Moses was in trouble after murdering an Egyptian. He likewise absconded. Then there was that scoundrel, Jacob, who stole his brother Esau's birthright. He went to stay with Uncle Laban for fourteen years.

But what can you say about Father Abraham? He was a rich man, but felt the urge to take off for parts unknown. He took his whole tribe with him. I wouldn't be able to afford that, even though I have a much smaller tribe. I wonder how history would have changed had old Abe stayed at home. Most of us travel without making much of an impact on civilization.

On the other hand, consider Christopher Columbus and all the Conquistadors. They discovered a whole new world. From that time on, people began traveling to the New World and then on to the West, until they finally settled California. I'm not sure if that was progress, but it certainly changed the motion picture industry.

In a few more short months, we will again head back to our beloved Pennsylvania. Do I really want to go back into the shadow of TMI? Well Jacob went back to face Esau. I guess I can go back to face the towers of TMI. But that's something to worry about later. Now I am living in Venice where Mohammed Atta got his first flight training. We pass that little airport on a regular basis. As Charlie Brown would say to Lucy, "Good Grief!"

Copyright © Jay D Weaver - November 1, 2001


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