When I told co-workers that Steve would be traveling to Australia and England during my sabbatical, they asked me if I would be going with him. I told them I wouldn't, citing the weakness of the dollar right now making everything horribly expensive. As in too expensive for us to hire a private nurse to keep me sedated and hydrated while applying fresh nicotine patches every hour.
I'm not afraid of flying by any means. I'll take off to New York to eat, drink and shop in a heartbeat. But New York is an hour and 15 minutes away. Otherwise, I am a terrible, bratty traveler. Even when we drive two and a half hours to see my parents, I have to pack my bag of fun containing magazines, cryptograms and my iPod. Steve gave me a portable DVD player for Christmas, and it keeps me from whining. (My daddy called Steve out on that, saying it was more for Steve than for me, which is true.)
Steve's trip to Australia this time was a nightmare. His itinerary called for a flight from Raleigh to New York, New York to Hong Kong, Hong Kong to Perth. During Pacific typhoon season.
The Hong Kong flight was diverted to Taiwan. The plane landed for refueling, but none of the passengers could get off the plane, as none of them had Taiwanese visas. They then headed for Hong Kong and circled the airport for a couple of hours before the pilots decided to make a very daring landing.
After being on the same plane for 22 hours, Steve had long since missed his connection and had to spend the night in Hong Kong. He got to Australia a day late and three days ahead of his luggage. "Nipped off to the Australian version of Wal-Mart for jocks-n-socks," he wrote me.
The crazy part is that he loves this stuff! I theorize it's because he's English, and that desire to explore and conquer is in his blood. You could probably go to deepest Borneo or the remotest part of Antarctica and be greeted by a Brit offering you a cup of tea.
When we were kids, the same age but 4,000 miles apart, as I was practicing my shuffle-skate moves in our carport to the tunes of Donna Summer, Steve was lying on his stomach in his bedroom, poring over atlases and maps, planning his imaginary adventures. Now, (cough) years later, he has a job that takes him all over the world, to places most people would never get to see.
As he's 15 hours ahead of me right now, Steve e-mailed me to let me know he'd arrived safely and described his travel in great detail. I shared the e-mail with my mother, who made me promise to share it with my sister with the promise she share it with my nephew Joshua, who is apparently very into maps.
I told Steve about Joshua's interest on the phone the next day, and he nearly squealed with delight. He's always pulling out the atlas and trying to teach me things. I can only focus on these teachings briefly before my mind wanders back to celebrity gossip. But now, Uncle Steve has a protege! A mind to mold with the wonders of the world! Another person to share his passion for maps and geography!
Steve excitedly e-mailed Joshua about his travels, embedding a map in the prose. He promised to bring Joshua maps from all his travels. Then, being a good uncle, he e-mailed my sister and asked her what Banyan was interested in so he could bring him presents, too. Jill e-mailed him back: "Banyan's really into the Pogues."
The Pogues? He's seven.
So now I have an image in my head of nine-year-old Joshua lying on his stomach in his bedroom in Vermont, poring over atlases and maps, planning his imaginary adventures. In the same room, the already world-weary Banyan slumps in his chair, crooning along with the ever demure and coquettish Shane MacGowan:
"It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank.
An old man said to me
Won't see another one..."
But it gives me hope. Joshua and Uncle Steve can jet off to Papua New Guinea 20 years from now. Banyan and I will sit in an Irish pub, drinking stouts and pondering what to do should we fall from grace with God.
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THE LIGHT EPHEMERAL
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6 comments:
It's all true. I would sit and trace routes from London to Vladivostok, imagining the people, the buildings and the landscape along the way. And it's great to have a young ward to excite with this stuff. Most peoples eyes glaze over whenever I talk about D1a climatic zones or highly seasonal precipitation in humid subtropical regions ;-)
Brilliant.
Leigh Ann, I'm with you. When Michael started traveling around the world, I bought Michael II a world map so we could chart his adventures. I lost interest after the first flight. I have no idea where that map is now.
When Steve was two years old he asked me how the picture on the telly got into our house! Of course I had to make up a BS story. Thank the supreme being he moved on to geography questions, most of those I could answer.
BTW, the cup of tea thing is right on. When my husband was in the USAF, stationed at Upper Heyford England, a F1 11 crew had to eject in an emergency and landed in the yard of an elderly couple. Yes Leigh Ann, they were given a nice cup of tea while they awaited transport back to base;-)
Like she (Jessica) said: Brilliant! Your story reminds me of one that Bill (Joshua's grandfather) told me about his childhood in Minnesota. This was during WW2 and Bill's older sister's boyfriend was fighting in the Navy. Bill was around Joshua's age right now, winning prizes for paper drives to support the war. His major memory of that time was the large National Geographic map of the world that his dad had on the wall of the den. Push pins marked every battle and skirmish, as he followed the vagaries of the Allies' fortunes from home.
Yes, Steve and Joshua, dreams and maps, maps and dreams!
Leigh Ann,
You should submit this to the N/O. Another master piece!
I can picture Steve and Joshua traveling all over the globe, but please, please find something different to entertain my precious Banyan!!!!!
Ma - "Tweet"
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