Let's Get Away

Recently, I’ve become aware of a new traveling series being written in the New York Times by Bruce Weber.  In this ongoing series, the writer will be zigzagging his way across our country, from sea to shining (not really) sea on a bicycle.  His voyage, by his own estimates, will take 3 months and lead him back to his apartment in New York City.  This got me thinking about similar flights of fancy.  We often trade in these outsized romantic visions of running away to a foreign land for short or long periods or dropping everything and going on an extended adventure.  Most recently, and more famously, we see it in stories like “Eat, Pray, Love” where our protagonist (I use that lightly since the definition of protagonist in this example fully lays in the readers’ appetite and patience for a self-indulgent, annoyingly self-pitying narrator) has adventures and crazy times (“OMG read how she TOTES drinks that tequila sunrise!”) in foreign lands to ultimately discover the woman with-in.

And yet I don’t know of anyone who has undertaken a similar adventure.  How come?  Let’s set aside the obvious logistical barriers such as money and time.  When pressed on why they couldn’t just pick up and leave somewhere for a short period of time, most people would answer that they have too much “stuff” that they are tethered to in their current life.  This “stuff” usually includes family, work, friends, partners, etc.  Well, let’s break down this “stuff” into manageable bits to see if they couldn’t be put on hold for a little while:

·        Family – I’m going to assume that for most of my readers (read: 4 people) their family shares some sort of interest in their well being.  I’ll even go out on a limb and say that I’m sure most families if not outright love, then at least have a tolerance for the Neanderthals in their bloodline.  Family will always be there (in some cases, unfortunately so).

·        Work – I can only speak on behalf of my own experience at my employer but since I’m a self-absorbed, megalomaniac Gen-Yer, I’m going to assume my experience is shared equally by everyone worldwide.  My employer offers unpaid sabbaticals or leave, which I’m sure other places will offer (and if you have to do something “unseemly” for it, well then suck it up cream puff).

·        Friends – to be fair, I can really only barely tolerate most of my friends and I really don’t see them that often.  In fact, seeing them often would probably lead me to questioning why I’m friends with most of the people I’m friends with which I’m sure reflects poorly on me but then, you can do suck a donkey dick.  If you like your friends (and I’ll assume you’re a mental defective) well, we live in a plugged-in worldwide community where you could keep track of and communicate with your wee buddies.

·        Partners – oh Love.  Listen, don’t let me trample on your philosophies and all, but given the choice between a life changing experience and love, I’m most likely choosing a life changing experience and taking my chances. Or you could be more pragmatic and invite your partner on your adventure to which I say bollocks on you good sir.

·        Kids – so you don’t want to leave your adorable little shits behind huh?  Trust me on this; you’ll only serve to fuck them up even more should you stay.  If you stay, you’ll only resent them later on when they are getting pregnant at 16 and attempting to put you in an old folks home when you are 50.

So what is it then? Are we that afraid of the unknown, of failing at a task that really can only be measured in successes?  God forbid we get lost in some unknown place!  What will happen to us if we don’t instantly recognize any fast food joints?  What happened to the spirit that guided prospectors in the 1800s to the west coast through untamed lands?  Maybe our generation and technology has washed us of our adventurous spirit.  We’re no longer able to accept the unknown or have any desire to feel uncomfortable. 

Maybe it’s also the expectations heaped on young adults to achieve greatness early.  It’s depressing in a way to think of someone in their 20’s or 30’s so slogged down by “responsibilities” or expectations from those around them that they wouldn’t be able to pick up and leave and experience something immeasurable.  I’m not sure what the solution is then.  For now I suppose we’ll have to be content with reading about other peoples’ wonderful adventures and pretending our cubicles or office rooms are actually secluded rooms somewhere in the African jungle rather then neutral-colored soul suckers.