unat '04--Epilogue, or, What I Learned in Sixteen Days

I learned...

That across large remote swaths of North America the first FM radio signal to be found will be of the "classic" rock variety. Go figure. I never want to hear another Lynrd Skynrd song again. Ever. I mean it. No really, I'll kick you.

That I can often be quite dull (please keep replies to a minimum on this one). My sightseeing tastes run toward battlefields and historical sites. The same goes for T.S. Eliot and Sarah Vowell, so I'm in good company.

That I have one small request of the states, principalities and territories of the United States and Canada about highway construction. Please stop. Finish what you're doing and stop for a while, maybe a couple of years or so. You could land a little extra scratch from it by taxing shock absorbers and tires and stuff. Give me a break, I beg of you.

That I have never smelled as bad as I did that night in Cache Creek—bus station stank, I'm not kidding.

That I had forgotten the unmitigated joy of eating an apple that you have just picked yourself and that I never will forget again.

That no matter how hot or commercialized or bereft of common sense a day might be, it is worth spending the time sweating or being reduced to nothing but a market share or insulted if you do it among your friends.

That despite the fact that we're genetically predisposed to be a pain in the ass, despite the drudgery mixed with abject terror, despite the fact that we're far more alike than I ever thought (and we share many of the bad parts, I'm afraid) despite all that, I would cross any continent with my brother any time.

That the National Hockey League lockout has seriously f@&%ed with the people of Canada. I intend to check this winter's crime and divorce statistics next year. Again, I'm not kidding.

That Canadians are exactly as charming and bland as you think they are. Bless them.

That, having now seen the Little Big Horn, Major Marcus Reno was a big pussy and a lot of men died for it (take little solace in the fact that he drank himself to death).

That I will daily encounter people whose personal drive, wit and generosity out shines my own in spades. That I must be glad to have encountered them, rather than envy them.

That expectation, if you're willing to accept its inherent frailty, is not such a bad thing after all. That having it at all is the trick, but it is important to see beyond expectation for the surprises in store for you. All you have to do is simply listen for the Grace that's with you all the time. They're sort of like those earthquakes in Washington.