This week I have the chance to fulfill a life-long goal to visit all 50 states (I'm currently at 46 and holding). For a few years now the only obstacle had been New England (barring a brief conference in Connecticut), and now I'm right smack in the middle of it, teaching at a Worldview Academy Leadership Camp at Franklin Pierce College in New Hampshire.
Linda joins me tomorrow, and then on Friday we will have dinner in Massachusetts as we say farewell to the Worldview gang. Saturday we drive to Acadia National Park in Maine, leaving just Vermont and Rhode Island as uncharted territory for me. So here's the dilemma: is it ethical to "bag" Vermont and Rhode Island by quickly driving in and driving out? Or do I need to wait till I have a legitimate reason to see a state? (I know what you're thinking: did he have a legitimate reason to see North Dakota? And the answer is definitely "yes"--Teddy Roosevelt National Park is really worthwhile.)
Part of me says it's cheating--a little like the people we met driving to the top of Mauna Kea to "bag" the highest point in Hawaii. But on the other hand, I'm not claiming to have cared about all 50 states--just to have visited them all. Or is that like reading War and Peace just to say you did it, instead of reading it because Tolstoy is a genius? Ah, the ethical quandry.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Everyone defines himself by association--whether with the corporate logo of Nike or the mocha of Starbucks or the athleticism of the Yankees or the machismo of Clint Eastwood. All those things are dust. Even finding our identity in our family or in our friends is fruitless. "Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me" (John 15:4).
www.flickr.com
This is a Flickr badge showing public photos from fishermenpress. Make your own badge here.
4 comments:
Hey Rob!
I love it that you used a baseball analogy--if you're ever going to persuade me of anything, that's the way to go. But I think it breaks down, since I'm not actually lifting myself from the game (of life) for good. Missing an opportunity now doesn't mean missing an opportunity forever (unless you know something that my doctor isn't telling me).
And Kyle: What if I said that I felt like I knew something about all of the other states I had visited, based on my experiences there? You and I both know that there's more to experiencing a state than whether or not they mow their ditches. Like, do they have "Puff Corn" in their convenience stores, or only Cheetos? Do they actually sell cans of boiled peanuts (whatever those are) in their grocery stores? And do they say "potment" when they mean "apartment," as I heard a man from Massachusetts say yesterday? These things are important.
Got it, Rob. Sorry I was dense about that. So . . . is Rob like the "good angel" sitting on my shoulder while Kyle is holding a pitchfork on the other shoulder?
I think you should steer clear of the remaining states. The thought of what you might move onto once this goal is achieved troubles me. Suppose you wake up the next day with the urge to visit the cheese-producing regions of France, for example. I don't want to spend next summer hearing about how the other tourists you saw in Aix didn't really experience it the way you did, or how in spite of your newfound respect for the Loire Valley, the cheese that results naturally when you stir a spoon counterclockwise in a glass of Canon City milk is far superior. I've already had to give up my own love of this nation so that you could feel it is yours alone, and the thought of losing Europe too is more than I can bear.
The day I'm eating cheese in France is the day you can pry my glass Canon City milk bottle from my cold, dead fingers.
(This bumper sticker for sale at www.non_sequitur.com)
Post a Comment