Meandering Through Life

The only thing that my biological mother went through more than men was addresses.  I can only assume that I got the 'wandering jew' gene from her, having moved over 35 times in my 43 years of life.  I have always had this incessant need to be 'on the move' and looking for change.  The idea of getting in the car and heading for nowhere in particular is such a deep-seated trait of mine that, sometimes, it drives me crazy... but that is when I am at my most happiest.  With my move to Vegas, I don't know if I was more excited about the drive across the country or the actual move and new experience.  Both were titillating.  I can't explain what it is exactly that  I enjoy so much... maybe not having a plan... maybe seeing new things... watching new people... experiencing life?  I'm not sure, but it's in my veins.  The idea of hooking up a trailer to my pickup truck... getting a dog and heading for the open road is as natural to me as the sense of a permanent home to another.

I've done quite a bit of traveling in my life... but no trip represents my need for adventure more than my trip to Paris sometime around 2000.  Working for SAP, a world-wide software company as a Project Manager, I was chosen as the representative for North and South America in a global task force to unify and better our human resources and benefits modules.  The central location for the world seemed to be Paris, so off I went.  Fortunately, I only had less than an 8 hour day of meetings, and the rest of the time, I had to explore, and boy did I.

Having taken three years of French in high school, I had somewhat of an idea of the language.  The French can be very unforgiving and particularly, on Americans.  I chose to stay in the La Defense area of town (one of the newer, modern areas with interesting buildings, including the modern arch building in the picture), far north of the city, up the Champs-Élysées, the main and most prestigious avenue in Paris.  After, I  got off of the plane and found my way to the hotel (at around 8 a.m. with time change), I looked out the window, and I could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance and thought... 'that looks pretty close, I'll just walk over there and check it out'... my meeting was the next day and I didn't want to waste the first day sleeping after my long flight.  It was April, I think, and it was one of those chilly days where the wind went right through you... and there were huge black clouds looming overheaad, but rain never fell.

Put me behind the wheel of a car and I have a great sense of direction and can find my way, no problem.  With the language barrier, I was afraid to ask directions or try to figure out signs or the subway.  So I started walking... I mean, it was right there... how far could it be.  Plus, it would give me the chance to meander through the streets... perhaps have a croissant at a petite boulangerie and take in some of the local color.  Streets in Paris are not straight shots.  They're all bendy and shit and the buildings are mostly 4 or 5 stories tall... so you can lose your way fairly easily.  7 hours later, I finally reached the Eiffel Tower near dusk... cold, damp and having not eaten much, again afraid to ask any one.  Sadly, surrounded by all of that, I found a McDonald's, and ate there.

Practically a local (after that ordeal), the next day, I got a little smarter.  I took the subway down to Notre Dame and La Louvre and mulled around downtown, no longer a little American boy in a big city, but I was now taking on the persona of Jean-Davide, un homme cosmopolitan.  The last day, I took the subway to the same area, but walked up to Basilique du Sacré Cœur, a cathedral high above the streets on Montmartre, the highest point in the city and an area known for it's street performers and artists.  Not being a religious person, the experience was truly biblical...  Moseying through up-and-coming artists painting scenes of the city...  mimes... organ-grinders... interpretive dancers... and the beautiful cathedral and spectacular view of the whole city... absolutely magical.

Having learned about some of these places in class in high school, I never thought that I would find myself sipping a coffee looking out on it all.  When I think of some of the people that I know who have never left Pittsburgh, I feel sad and claustrophobic all at the same time.  Some of my friends would rather spend $100 on tennis shoes... I'd rather be behind the wheel or on-foot, exploring what the world has to offer... and while I need those tennis shoes to walk through my journeys, they'll be worn out and thrown out, and the experiences that I had will last a lifetime.