It was wet. Lots of days when sunshine and sun showers seemed to be taking turns as the afternoon went on.
It was warm. There was not a single stretch of damp, chilly weather (the kind that ruins picnics, softball games and barbecues). In fact, I don't think I remember a single chilly day...odd for Wisconsin. At the same time, it never stayed unbearably hot for too long. Nights were downright lovely.
My job had me driving a lot this summer, mostly through farm country where there was a lot of open sky, and up in those vast spaces there always seemed to be clouds hanging, forming or approaching:
I had the privilege of driving through some intense thunderstorms too. In fact, I was treated to a stellar light show not two nights ago...
There was almost too much rain, actually, causing flooding in some areas, which is never good, and surely contributing to this year's bumper hatch of mosquitoes. But the plentiful moisture also made for a great growing season...and you want to eat, don't you? ;-)
It was warm. There was not a single stretch of damp, chilly weather (the kind that ruins picnics, softball games and barbecues). In fact, I don't think I remember a single chilly day...odd for Wisconsin. At the same time, it never stayed unbearably hot for too long. Nights were downright lovely.
My job had me driving a lot this summer, mostly through farm country where there was a lot of open sky, and up in those vast spaces there always seemed to be clouds hanging, forming or approaching:
Sometimes they brought mayhem
(in this case, the very weather front itself clearly defined)...
(in this case, the very weather front itself clearly defined)...
Sometimes no threat of violence, just more rain...
Sometimes they formed speckled patterns, a kind of celestial latticework, and these often led to a stellar sunset, or sunrise, and more than a few nights on which dappled moonlight fell across the remote corn and soy fields I cruised past on my way home.
There came the odd rainbow...
Or two...
Sometimes clouds lingered around AFTER a storm had passed...
But most of the time, they sailed past happily,
soft puffs of cotton that wouldn't hurt a fly,
breathing gently on the neck of a perfect summer day...
soft puffs of cotton that wouldn't hurt a fly,
breathing gently on the neck of a perfect summer day...
I had the privilege of driving through some intense thunderstorms too. In fact, I was treated to a stellar light show not two nights ago...
I saw some interesting things while driving:
* A sandhill crane, for the first time ever....actually two of them.
* A flock of wild turkeys causing traffic to back up as they made their way across a busy city highway.
* Lots of deer in the area. Didn't hit any, thankfully, although someone did, because a few of the ones I saw were lying crumpled on the side of the road.
* A sandhill crane, for the first time ever....actually two of them.
* A flock of wild turkeys causing traffic to back up as they made their way across a busy city highway.
* Lots of deer in the area. Didn't hit any, thankfully, although someone did, because a few of the ones I saw were lying crumpled on the side of the road.
Sadly, I didn't avoid road carnage completely:
* I unintentionally slaughtered a family of skunks, who appeared in the cone of my headlights too quickly to take evasive action. I hit another skunk several weeks later, in a different location, and was pretty upset. But the other night, during that light show, I successfully avoided hitting a third skunk by skillfully veering around it, so I like (choose) to think I redeemed myself. Deer either freeze up, or take dumb risks trying to cross the road, but at least they know what's going on around them. Skunks never seem aware of where they are, or even that something's about to happen.
* I unintentionally slaughtered a family of skunks, who appeared in the cone of my headlights too quickly to take evasive action. I hit another skunk several weeks later, in a different location, and was pretty upset. But the other night, during that light show, I successfully avoided hitting a third skunk by skillfully veering around it, so I like (choose) to think I redeemed myself. Deer either freeze up, or take dumb risks trying to cross the road, but at least they know what's going on around them. Skunks never seem aware of where they are, or even that something's about to happen.
All the driving this summer left me with time to listen:
* George Carlin's "Brain Droppings", read by the great one, himself.
* Meat Loaf's "Bat Out of Hell", which is still a great album, although I can't relate to it quite the same way I (thought I) could in high school. That's probably a good thing.
* Sometime in early July, "The Dark Side of the Moon" replaced "The Wall" as my favorite Pink Floyd album.
* Tom Waits is still brilliant.
* Inexplicably, I really came to like Selena Gomez's "The Heart Wants What it Wants"....don't tell anyone.
Sometimes I turned the radio off and let my mind wander:
* I ate a Whatchamacallit candy bar for the first time since Jimmy Carter was president. It was not at all what I remember, kind of disgusting actually (I'm good for another 37 years), but the experience got me thinking: IS it different from when I was a kid, or am I different? That is, have my tastes changed?
* I weighed my options in the upcoming presidential election...fell to grief, for a bit.
* I thought about how I would fare as president. There would be just one slogan for a Glovsky 2020 campaign: "Infrastructure, First and Foremost." But how would I handle ISIS? Immigration? The racial divide in this country? Cop shootings? Mall shootings? School shootings? (Fell to grief again, for a bit). And what if the press found out that I like "The Heart Wants What it Wants" by Selena Gomez? 8-/
* I realized I am the age my father was in 1976.
* Sometime in early July, "The Dark Side of the Moon" replaced "The Wall" as my favorite Pink Floyd album.
* Tom Waits is still brilliant.
* Inexplicably, I really came to like Selena Gomez's "The Heart Wants What it Wants"....don't tell anyone.
Sometimes I turned the radio off and let my mind wander:
* I ate a Whatchamacallit candy bar for the first time since Jimmy Carter was president. It was not at all what I remember, kind of disgusting actually (I'm good for another 37 years), but the experience got me thinking: IS it different from when I was a kid, or am I different? That is, have my tastes changed?
* I weighed my options in the upcoming presidential election...fell to grief, for a bit.
* I thought about how I would fare as president. There would be just one slogan for a Glovsky 2020 campaign: "Infrastructure, First and Foremost." But how would I handle ISIS? Immigration? The racial divide in this country? Cop shootings? Mall shootings? School shootings? (Fell to grief again, for a bit). And what if the press found out that I like "The Heart Wants What it Wants" by Selena Gomez? 8-/
* I realized I am the age my father was in 1976.
I watched some of the Olympics on TV...er, tried to, at least. Okay, I pretty much just answered "yes" when asked if I was watching, because I felt I should, because to my surprise, a lot of people seemed to be following the action in Rio. Truthfully, I was not one of them. Ryan Lochte...seriously...? I'm not talking about the fake robbery in Rio, just....Ryan Lochte??
I was more interested in the Little League World Series. Having played myself, long ago, I can imagine how amazing it must be for those kids, ages 11- 13, to play at that level, to have their games carried on ESPN, on a world stage, and have it still be just about the game. That is what sports, in the purest sense of the word, is all about. Just playing the game. No eight-figure contracts, endorsement deals or future wives of wherever turning good fortune into sick-making opulence. No agents, sign-on bonuses (or blow jobs), reality shows, or fake South American robbery reports. Just playing the game.
Playing the game.
Playing the game, and feeling like a pretty big deal for just a little while.
Playing the game.
Playing the game, and feeling like a pretty big deal for just a little while.
I was able to do some gardening this summer, for the first time in several years. I grew hot peppers and tomatoes, made chili with both, reaffirming something I learned back in the day: there is nothing more viscerally satisfying than consuming what you grow.
I worked on my farmer's tan.
I fished a new lake (while working on my farmer's tan).
Kayaked for the first time (stayed upright!).
I fished a new lake (while working on my farmer's tan).
Kayaked for the first time (stayed upright!).
I went to see the Braves play the Brewers at Miller Park. The Braves lost, but I kicked ass at "20 Questions" on the drive there.
Speaking of kicking ass, I also played on a volleyball team called Blue Philadelphia...and we...well, you know...
All things considered, a great summer! But another year down, another year of my life gone, and am I any closer to 1/48/50? I'm closer to the self-imposed deadline, sure....but no closer to actually making it happen.
The kind of trip I want to take is itself a pretty big deal. There will be major financial considerations. For starters, I've got to start thinking seriously about acquiring an RV, one that a) will make the 14,000+ mile journey, and b) I will feel comfortable living in for six months. And then there are the expenses on the road. I have a preliminary budget mapped out, an idea of what the entire trip will cost...and honestly, it's going to be a tall order. Not impossible, but seeing as my last name isn't Rockefeller, it's certainly something I'll have to start saving for.
But preparation is going to involve more than just saving money. It's going to involve nurturing a strong commitment to making it happen. That is, declaring not only that I'm going to do it, but when I'm going to do it. Setting a date (something more concrete than "before I turn 50"), and sticking to it.
Work is going to be a factor. Not so much because I won't get paid if I don't work, but whether I will even be able to get away. Right now, honestly, I don't think I could take six months off. I'm kind of integral to what's going on, and while that can be a good thing (it's nice to be needed...), it means a six-month road trip would be an unacceptable, and therefore impossible, interruption.
I guess there's a reason why people wait to retire before they set out to "find America". But that is precisely what I don't want to do. I really want to pull this trip off while I'm still young(ish)...still vital, still capable of long drives, still up for anything, as it were. Before I turn 50 sounds great, but the sooner the better.
Fact is, there will probably always be a million excuses not to do it, myriad reasons why I can't, or shouldn't. I'll probably always find it hard to get away, this summer, next summer, the summer after that. I don't want to fall into that pattern, because before I know it, I'll still be sitting here blogging about the trip, but having to call it 1/48/70.
Perhaps one of the things that I thought about most this summer during all that driving is whether there's a part of me that's afraid to do it. I'm not sure why that would be the case. Maybe I'm afraid of the commitment, as though once I commit, I have to go through with it. Maybe, in certain moments, I find the whole thing a little intimidating...
Maybe I'm reluctant to do it because after all this planning and mapping and budgeting and anticipation, when I finally get out there, drive 14,000 miles and come home, it will be over. And then what?
Maybe I'm terrified of the way other people drive... ;-)
But preparation is going to involve more than just saving money. It's going to involve nurturing a strong commitment to making it happen. That is, declaring not only that I'm going to do it, but when I'm going to do it. Setting a date (something more concrete than "before I turn 50"), and sticking to it.
Work is going to be a factor. Not so much because I won't get paid if I don't work, but whether I will even be able to get away. Right now, honestly, I don't think I could take six months off. I'm kind of integral to what's going on, and while that can be a good thing (it's nice to be needed...), it means a six-month road trip would be an unacceptable, and therefore impossible, interruption.
I guess there's a reason why people wait to retire before they set out to "find America". But that is precisely what I don't want to do. I really want to pull this trip off while I'm still young(ish)...still vital, still capable of long drives, still up for anything, as it were. Before I turn 50 sounds great, but the sooner the better.
Fact is, there will probably always be a million excuses not to do it, myriad reasons why I can't, or shouldn't. I'll probably always find it hard to get away, this summer, next summer, the summer after that. I don't want to fall into that pattern, because before I know it, I'll still be sitting here blogging about the trip, but having to call it 1/48/70.
Perhaps one of the things that I thought about most this summer during all that driving is whether there's a part of me that's afraid to do it. I'm not sure why that would be the case. Maybe I'm afraid of the commitment, as though once I commit, I have to go through with it. Maybe, in certain moments, I find the whole thing a little intimidating...
Maybe I'm reluctant to do it because after all this planning and mapping and budgeting and anticipation, when I finally get out there, drive 14,000 miles and come home, it will be over. And then what?
Maybe I'm terrified of the way other people drive... ;-)
