Random Ramblings From The Road

So Good So Far...

It's really hard to decide what part of the world to live in these days, even with the advent of modern modes of transportation like commercial jet based air travel and President Eisenhower's interstate highway system.

At least for me it is.

I guess that you could say that we Americans are spoiled.

Or arrogant.

Or possibly BOTH.

Take the year 2008 for instance, and use me for an example.

January 1st found me wandering around within about a mile of the Atlantic ocean, on a little pile of sand and tree limbs that came to be affectionately known as "our little Island" here on my piece of the Internet.

But if you look at the map I'm afraid that you will find that someone long before me named the place St. Simons Island, and most of the dirt in the north, south, and easterly directions was technically called Georgia since somewhere around the 1600's when Ponce de Leon and Desoto were wandering around on wooden boats getting bitten by alligators and mosquitoes.

Then by May 1st of this same year me, my girl, my Turbo Pup, and most of the rest of my possessions could be found residing in a brick box in Eastern Tennessee not far from the banks of the Mighty Tennessee River, having been hauled over land by a few trucks in a whirlwind income induced relocation.

In 1808 or 1908 you couldn't have accomplished such a feat for any amount of money in any less time than most of a year with multiple teams of mules and horses, yet we did it (the "relocation") in only a couple of WEEKS of time in 2008.

A truly amazing accomplishment in my mind, yet many people refuse to acknowledge it can be done let alone actually do something like we did--even in the name of money or family or religion.

Now look at yesterday.

At 7 AM I could be found spinning in circles in my carport adjacent to the Mighty Tennessee River, loading Missy the Turbo Pup's lockers, sea chests, and furniture into the back seat of the car.

By 7 PM that same day I was situated far to the northeast of my previous position, dining with Pat and some of her extended family near the banks of the Youghiogheny river in Western Pennsylvania.

All it cost us to make the geographic transition was about $80 in gas and nearly eight hours of our time, something that was unheard of as recently as about 50 years ago.

But if you listen to the so called professional media, you'd be led to believe that living under the iron fisted rule of our current inept, shamelessly lying president while being forced to pay over $4.00 for gasoline would have caused me to lash myself to a telephone pole in anticipation of weathering the coming economic downturn or to rip my curtains to bits and hang myself in my living room in a search for some self induced mental relief.

Instead, I'm still sitting here, complaining about the crappy desk chair in my motel room, getting ready to wander outside with the Turbo Pup for a little early morning "business".

In another state than that in which I live, in the greatest country in the world.

Hold that thought....I have a hurried Pup to attend to...