Vacations begin long before you step out the door to leave for the airport. Along with the physical tasks that accompany a trip--planning the trip, packing the suitcases, getting everything in the car--there exists a certain amount of mental prep work that needs to be done. In leaving our homes and the things with which we are familiar, we are opening ourselves up to the world. Vacations in American society today exist as our last grasp on geographic exploration. We are descended from thousands of years worth of explorers and wanderers. Our world is shaped by the inquisitive and adventurous nature of our ancestors. But the maps have all been made, and the corners of the globe have all been swept out in National Geographic articles and Discover Channel specials. So today we pack the kids in the car and drive to Disney World, or catch a trans-Atlantic flight to backpack across Europe for a couple weeks to wet our appetites. We long to chase the horizon as those before us did, to cover new ground. The new ground may be gone, but its spirit still lives.
Over the past few days I have begun the process of traveling, letting my mind wander off to New York City days before my body will arrive. There is probably no other city in the world that affords its potential visitors with such a wide range of imagined possibilities. The city looms real in my psyche, somewhere I've been hundreds of times, in the pages of books and on movie screens.
I try hard to keep my knowledge of the city in perspective. To me it exists as the ultimate pop cultural entity, housing stories of history, sports, music, and politics. In reality it is so much more, a living breathing place, like an organism run by millions of cells that work together to bring sentience. I know its face but not its body.
And so I am off tomorrow to experience a familiar place for the first time.
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