But loving the cold and longing for the cold - well, are two very different things. At least in August.
Waking up to see snow capped alps outside my window - while beautiful, is not exactly what you are hoping for at the end of August.
I realize the Fall isn’t all that far away - but if it’s one thing I clearly remember about life in San Francisco, it was the warm and sometimes hot Septembers.
Ok - I know. I can’t even begin to compare the two.
But when you are living life against everything you know, you are searching - however small and meaningless - for the slightest similarity. Nostalgia is the strongest tool in the fight against homesickness.
Sometimes, all it takes is a trip down memory lane by way of a smell or sight, a word someone spoke, to snap me out of it and get on with life in another country. It’s really hard sometimes.
And let’s face it, snow capped alps don’t exactly cut the mustard in the way of similarities to California.
They say familiarity breeds contempt. Probably.
Ok - yeah. When you’re living in it, it’s an entirely different beast. Yet another kind - unlike the homesickness one - to contend with.
When I lived at the Grand Canyon - I kid you not when I tell you I used to call it “the pit.” Seriously.
I know, sad huh?
Seeing it everyday, after a while, was like second nature - so to speak... i.e not so exciting after seeing it the hundreth time.
Luckily, I hiked to the bottom, camped and came back up - at least once, before leaving the pit.
Perhaps that is the secret - or more like drive - to the eternal wanderer, journey-seeking, modern day hobo, globe-trotting, itchy-footed traveler. Familiarity I mean.
Perhaps we are trying not to be full of contempt.
Although, admittedly I am not sure why exploring your surroundings is breeding contempt.
I suppose it’s like a lover you never expect to leave - you just get used to it after awhile - it’s familiar.
Maybe that is why I have never been one to stay long, bury my feet and plant myself.
Really?
I have absolutely no idea what is in my blood and my fellow tumbling comrades that keeps us on the road, on the trails and running like hell down paths we aren’t even sure why we took in the first place.
And even when we do stop - we are plotting, planning, skeeming and scheduling our next take-off.
Someone told me last year in England, after a show, he had heard that morning on BBC there was a study that said they found a gene “travelerers”universally possess.
I’m not so sure how they discovered this one or exactly who got tested (where do I apply? Does it include a round trip ticket?) but it sounds good to me.
I think it was called, the Q gene. Or something.
Anyway, what began as a gripe about the weather then a foray into homesickness - has ended up, as usual - nowhere.
But one thing is for sure - I aint’ stickin’ around to find out what will come out next.
My Q gene, or something, tells me it’s time to get moving before this cold paralyzes me and keeps me glued to this computer forever.
