I was on a 6 hour flight from Charlotte to San Francisco last night after a 4 hour layover and a 2 hour delay....
During the flight I was reading a book that was given to me by one of my best friends called; Riding Toward Everywhere by Williamt T Vollman. The book is about himself and his companion Steve taking to the rails on freight cars. Questioning anything and everything subjecting both our national romance and our skepticism about hobo life and the reality of what he actually sees.
I read two things in this book that stuck with me. One had to do with an old man and his life on the train. What kept him going was the freedom of it. Upon reflection, it brought him to tears because it is such a sharp contrast to his own current life now which is completely organized. The second, when you travel, whatever mode of transportation you are in, it takes you places you would have never seen otherwise from different views. You then start to analyze; "Where exactly am I going? What am I doing?" Where is "Everywhere?"
In the airport, I heard people bitching left and right... and to be honest I wasnt exactly happy about the scenario but would I trade it for anything else? Absolutely not. It's part of my life I have grown to enjoy and appreciate. Its always different everyday and there's always a story to tell.
Then it hits you... the journey is the real gem here. Everywhere, is getting there.
Taken with my phone in the bathroom stall of an airport
Summer Days at Rockaway Beach, New York, 1950
5 hours ago