>>pk@columbia: roadtrip

afterword: the roadtrip essence

A roadtrip is a roadtrip because a bulk of the time is spent on the road. We sang, we joked, we mocked, we discussed, we ate, we drank (water), and we all got to know each other better. One moment I remember well was the drive from Dartmouth to Yale, when the three of us analyzed our trip up to that point. We talked about what we thought of the people we met and the things we did. We asked ourselves if we had fun, if the times were memorable, and if the trip was worth the drive, the time, and the money. To honestly and openly talk about the trip made it that much better - to know that nobody was slighted on the trip and that we all had our fun - I personally felt great the entire way back and only pleasant memories remain from the trip.

I wrote earlier in the month that I desired warm weather and that Florida would have been an ideal place to go, but then again, maybe it's not the place that enriches an experience. If it hadn't been for Anita and Rich in Boston or Wally and his weed aficionado roommates in Dartmouth or Patty in Yale, the trip would only have been as fun as our wallets and knowledge would've allowed - and both things would have been exhausted immediately. I did have a warm vacation on this roadtrip because everywhere I went, I felt welcomed. The art of hospitality in effect and being at the receiving end helped me to realize that people create environments and people set the tone and mood no matter where you are.

So in America, when the sun goes down, I know that Anita and Rich might be walking down the streets of Boston lighted by perfectly aligned lollipop lamps, that Wally is running around with his face red, doing the victory slap with his paddle after sinking a ping pong ball in a cup, that Patty is stopping in her tracks wondering if she just saw someone walk into the Skulls building, and in New York City, arrogantly knowing that I live in the capital of the world, that nothing else happens outside this place, and that money does buy happiness, at least in the form of a highly concentrated liquid, I realize it's almost impossible to see sunset from the west side of Manhattan.