My agoraphobia isn't so much a fear of open spaces as it is a reflex anxiety in crowds. I ADORE open spaces. I'd live in one, but there's the whole job-and-school thing (Mrs. R's job taht is).
I'll illustrate with a story.
Last year I bought a bike ... my first "old man's bike" with bags and fairing. I discovered that this is the first 'sickle that I can ride for over 50 miles without getting back pain. In fact the tables have turned - I can go 700 miles a day on my bike where 300 in a car, even a very nice car, would leave me hurtin.
So after doing a quick 650 miles out - sleep 2 nights - 650 return in good order, I began to allow myself to think big. I visited friends in OR and Canada, saw Yellowstone and the Badlands, scooted up the north shore of Lake Superior, then visited family in MD and GA. Thirty-one days total with nineteen of those in the saddle, 9500 total miles. 1500 pictures, and only one EDV (Embarrassing Deviation from the Vertical). Most of those miles were on interstates or, where possible, "backroad" highways such as US 50 from Salina UT to Sac'to in one mighty push. Oh, the scenery!! I passed through Sturgis during Sturgis. I made the mistake of approaching it from an angle so as to avoid the crowds. Wouldn't'cha know, Wednesday was Wyoming Day. I passed over ten miles of solid bike traffic, shoulder to shoulder and fender to fender, before coming to the hamlet of Hulitt WY. Imagine parked bikes, tightly and neatly arrayed, 50 to 100 feet across and two miles long. Sturgis proper was a suburb by comparison. I got my t-shirt and a few good looks at the display articles (feminine of course) and got the **** out of Dodge, so to speak. I felt myself tensing up in direct proportion to the density of people - noisy lively party people - and just as gradually relaxed once past Rapid City SD. The big payoff of the day was seeing the Badlands at sundown. That and the crossing of the Beartooth Highway from Yellowstone to Billings MT left me awestruck. Having abso-****ing-lootly perfect weather helped. I chased a cold front from Portland to Ottawa, and only a sudden downpour just hours from my destination was the only real rain on the outbound leg. (Ruined my totally gnarly bug collection making the fairing 1/2 inch thicker!)
Funny, vanilla isn't the smell I associate with Tom when he was a professional diaper filler. That boy had GAME when it came to being stinky.
Helen was my paternal grandmother's name, and yes it was that gorgeous creature's name on "All Creatures Great and Small, reruns of which Spouse and I watched until we had them nearly memorized. Had Tom been a girl the name would probably have been Susan, another euphonious name that isn't all yeeechh modern made-up (Or worse imo - androgynous). I met this divorced attorney at a party ages ago, and her daughters were named Hunter and Mason. Good thing she had no boys ... how would you like to have to explain that your name is Seamstress?
OK enough amiable yattering for now ... gotta go find dinner. cheers lrr |
