Friends, I really am reclusive. I dislike travel, intensely, and I don't give out my address. People occasionally invite me to Outer Darkness, Montana, or the savage and untamed far corners of Indiana or other such outlandish places and meaning no offense, that's unlikely to happen unless I need medical or financial help only available in those places. I'm a worrier; I have trouble making myself leave the house for work in the morning.
Travel for pleasure is like lion-taming: I'll watch other people do it but I would not want to try it myself.
Here's an example: my last "big trip" but one or two was a day-trip to West Baden Springs, restored but empty at the time. The nearby French Lick Resort* was where I bit down on a well-done burger at lunch and punched a tooth root through the bone of my upper jaw. I didn't know that at the time, it just hurt, a lot. On the way home, I had my first migraine. It was the start of a lot of trouble and tribulation.
Travel? Nero Wolfe and Mycroft Holmes had the right idea about it!
________________________________
* No, no, no.
BUILDING A 1:1 BALUN
4 years ago
3 comments:
I understand your reservations about travel. Two of my last trips were less than agreeable. I will go again, but the support network around here if stuff goes wrong and home mean much.
Do what I do. I live vicariously thru others here in this space =). Well sorta. The trips have always been worth it to meet fellow bloggers. I will risk it to hopefully meet you at a Indy Blogmeet.
You ARE reclusive. Outer Darkness is in North Dakota, but so far west you have to fly into a small airport in Montana and drive to it.
Lines from a routine 85 years ago: "You have Lion Taming mixed up with suicide!" Easy to do; don't worry about changing.
Post a Comment