Home Sweet . . .

Wow . . .

Have you ever driven for 15 straight hours to find yourself in the middle of some giant toaster oven?

A few weeks ago, that's exactly what we did, driving from Cape May, NJ to the great state of Indiana, home to the Evansville Otters. Although the temperature when we arrived was reasonable. It quickly turned on the afterburners to that I'd break into a profuse sweat simply by . . . oh . . . rolling out of bed.

The heat was really something. I used to think it was only the coast that got so humid, but after a couple of days in the heartland of Hell, I've decided to rethink all that.

But one thing I do have to say, this is a beautiful country, it really is. We drove out through Maryland, West Virginia and Kentucky to get there. While I have always loved the ocean, I still have some of the Pennsylvania farmland blood in me and I always feel like I am home when I see rolling hills. And can there be a prettier spot than the mountains of West Virginia? And just watching the horses run through the pastures near Lexington, Kentucky is soothing and peaceful.

This kind of brings me a small point. Travel is very cool. By my calculations, I have driven through 32 of the 50 states in this country . . . and I know that of the 18 left, I am missing some of the most spectacular areas this country has to offer. And of the 32 I've actually seen, I feel like I've only scraped the surface.

This got me to thinking though, of the value of travel. As we move around this planet, we are exposed to other peoples and other cultures in a way that we cannot experience them on the internet or on TV. And we gain an appreciation for the value of diversity. I fear that so many of us, so many Americans, have no real appreciation of the wonders that surround us. I mean look at how many people go to Florida, and almost no place else. As I walked around the square in a little town in southwestern Indiana, I got a sense of how previous generations of Americans went about their lives, and yet how close we are to losing those things that made us who we are. Nearly every area I travel through nowadays is experiencing some type of development. I think they used to call it the stripmauling of America (my spelling, and yes it was intentional). Now we could call it Wal-Martation. There are some really cool places in this country that are dying, because everyone hops in their car and drives to the outskirts of places where all the big box stores are hunched down onto asphalt deserts.

I mean, have you walked across those parking lots in the middle of a 100+ degree-day? No wonder people get so bent out of shape over parking spots. I mean that stuff can kill you!

Meanwhile, back in the town center, cool old architecture sits empty, or in threat of the wrecking ball because there is no reason to go "downtown".

Listen to the old man. Go downtown once in a while instead of driving to Walmart or Target. Look around you. This is your heritage and it is disappearing. A time will come when you will wish you had paid closer attention to the look and feel of your past. Take tons of pictures of old houses and old buildings, heck take pictures of everything and put them away. In about thirty years you will be amazed at how much the world has changed.

I mean, take gas stations. Who can remember when they were really "service" stations? These buildings used to be designed individually for their location. Nowadays, they are little more than concrete block boxes with soda machines outside. But a time will come when even they will disappear.

Personally, I have rich memories of the sounds and smells of gas stations, and believe me, they are only memories because those things don't exist anymore. And the truth is, I never understood how much I'd miss them when they were gone.