Time to go

[Created at the Raleigh-Durham airport on September 5, 2006]

I tried hard to focus on the scenery passing outside the car window, travelling east on I-40 to Raleigh-Durham airport. But the greenery that impressed me four years ago when I first came down here is lost against the churn in my mind of the logistics ahead – what if they don’t accept all my luggage and I have to leave stuff behind? who will I give it to? what will they say about my one-way ticket? what if they turn me back on the other side? My perennial affliction: “what if” paralysis. Some people drift through their journeys, distracted by mere twitches in the passing show – as a result, they frequently miss their trains, but they don’t miss the life that’s going on around them. Others, like me, are destined to wallow in the mire of our minds, figuring out what we still need to do, how it’s going to go, what can go wrong … and then missing the show as we do.

But with the “new world” of travel that we find ourselves in – straitjacketed into a system of weights and measures, checks and re-checks – it bears being vigilant to avoid its wallet-lightening repercussions when you tread over its rigid boundaries. So I pack, weigh, re-pack. Re-weigh. Sweat. Re-distribute. Re-weigh. Shower.

Ultimately, it pays dividends, with one suitcase hitting the weight limit on the nose, the other creeping in under the limit by a hair. Ah, finally a reward for my anal-retentiveness. Of course the measure of my satisfaction pales against the magnitude of the effort that went into getting there – another established trait – but it’s a victory nonetheless. Finally, I can relax.

Walking down the wide corridor of RDU, I pass a fast-food restaurant called “All American Food.” At last I’m a little reflective, and think of where I’ve been the past 19 years – New York, Rhode Island, Ohio, North Carolina. Then I consider where I’m going – rural Italy. The phrase “chalk and cheese” springs to mind, and I’m satisfied that I won’t miss the chemistry of “All American Food.” And while I feel the same about W, wire taps, and intolerance, I’m sure that I’ll hanker after the convenience of American life when I’m wading through the swamps of Italian bureaucracy, having already experienced it several times already.

No doubt there’ll be other things too, but I don’t know what they are yet. Not long to wait now, however – in an hour or so, I’ll be on my way to Washington, then Munich, then Ancona, where Claudia, Julius & Mr. Young await my arrival tomorrow afternoon. This day has finally arrived, I’m going to Italy.