From a true geographical stand point, the farthest I’ve ever traveled from home (the one I have here on Earth) is approximately 4,295 miles (Chicago to Honolulu). Which, according to the city distance calculator at geobytes.com, is an “as the crow flies” estimate, so in all actuality the true distance is bound to be a bit farther. Regardless, it’s a touch more than going from Seattle to Washington, D.C., and back again. Or, for the truly foreign among us, about 1.8th of the way to the moon.
I’ve never been much of traveler … not in the nomadic sense anyway—but not because I don’t want to see other places or discover new things, new people, new ways of being … but because when it comes right down to it, unless I can click my heels together or have Scotty beam me somewhere, I don’t get too excited about the other forms of transportation available; especially for long distances. Yea. I admit it. I hate to fly. There. I said it. I am a wuss. And now I’ve said that too.
I mean listen, I understand displacement theory and I get speed and acceleration, but when I look at an airplane or a multi-ton steel cruise ship, it just doesn’t make any sense that one can float, and the other fly. Fish are supposed to float. Birds are supposed to fly. Not gigantic, man-made transport machines. Am I right? Throw me a damn bone someone!
To be clear, I do fly (recall those 4,295 miles from Chicago to Honolulu) but I try my best to avoid it as much as possible.
Oh, and just in case you’re curious, when it comes to traveling via cruise ships, nah. I saw the titanic. I don’t care what you say about radar and technology and science and blah, blah, blah … it’s just not for me. Really. There is not enough Dramamine in the world nor enough vodka to calm me enough to make me climb on board. At least if I fly somewhere I can wake up on land.
And so, here I sit. I may have to be drugged one day so I can finally go to Spain, the Amalfi coast, the Vatican, the Great Wall of China, the Forbidden City (all places that intrigue me) but for now, at least I’ve been 1.8th of the way to the moon. So until I get my own pair of ruby-red slippers, for now, I guess that will have to do.
DISCLAIMER: I’m a writer and an editor. And I try my best to make sure every post is articulate and free from errors. However, being that I edit my own work—and it’s next to impossible to properly edit your own work—I admit, occasionally there may be an error or two I miss. But doing so doesn’t make me an idiot so don’t be mean. Just smile, pat yourself on the back for finding an error and be glad you’re not the only one who makes mistakes sometimes … xoxox