“We all come from somewhere. We carry that place with us wherever we go. That never leaves our hearts. Not entirely.”
– Doug Jones (Saru) from Star Trek: Discovery
My hometown matters to me. Yet, I rarely go back to the town I called home for nearly 25 years. It’s not that I don’t want to go back; it’s more that there is little calling for me to return. My parents no longer live locally, and they sold my childhood home years ago. Each time I return, there are fewer reminders of who I once was. Many of my posts situate my hometown as a consistent backdrop. Avoiding the town, therefore, is impossible. I love my hometown. I no longer want to position it on the periphery. But returning home is emotionally challenging and brings forth pleasing and unpleasant emotions; fear, happiness, and uncertainty. It’s a conflicted feeling, but I have attempted to work through these complexities. Fairhaven, Massachusetts, is ultimately home. I may not return for some time, but home will logically always be merely a drive away. After Corinne and I purchased a 2003 Jeep Wrangler, I felt the urge to explore the town I took for granted and left behind nearly two decades ago.
“Some national parks have long waiting lists for camping reservations. When you have to wait a year to sleep next to a tree, something is wrong.”
– George Carlin
The time finally arrived; my wife and I took a trip away from home for the first time in over a year. We took a two-night venture to Falmouth, Massachusetts, and stayed in an Airstream at AutoCamp Cape Cod. I am not much of a camper. Even so, staying in an Airstream seemed a perfect way to spend a couple of nights but still enjoying all the luxuries of travel. We would be outside, away from others, and could bring our dog, Mr. Tuttles. It seemed a wonderful way to reacclimate to the outside world. If I have learned anything recently, it is that in a pandemic experienced world, anything is possible.
But was it a trip I would do again? Did sleeping in an Airstream help me see the outdoors as a viable alternative to resort amenities? Keep reading to see, but here is a hint; this anti-camper not only recalled memories of childhood but could also not stop quoting a ‘88 John Candy film. Sure, while I do not consider myself “obnoxious,” I am slightly more the Roman character played by Dan Aykroyd in The Great Outdoors than Chet played by Candy. A classic comedy from 1988 written by John Hughes, the outdoors always makes me think of this film. So, buckle up, get the fire pit ready, and dust off the VHS player. We are talking camping, travel, and a classic cinematic comedy.
“Here in New England, the character is strong and unshakable.”
– Normal Rockwell
In 2015, my wife Corinne and I finally took a weekend trip to Nantucket Island, located off the South Coast of Massachusetts. There we celebrated our anniversary but did so in a distinctive style. Although the weekend followed no primary schedule, we took in the history, scenery, and beauty of this fantastic island. When we left, we were not surprised by how wonderful the trip was, but wondered why it took so long to visit in the first place. We knew we found a place where we would travel again. If for no other reason, to feel the majesty of the island environment and be taken aback by the splendor of the ocean water as it crashed onto our feet as we walked along the lovely beach.
I am a born and raised New Englander, one who grew up able to see the local harbor from the bedroom window. I do not feel calm or at peace if I am without access to an ocean. This need to live “oceanically” is one reason I found myself living in Hawaii by 2010. If I was going to work towards a Ph.D., I thought, why not study on a gorgeous tropical island surrounded by water. After my wife and I moved back, we found ourselves living in Salem and, once again, had a window with views of the ocean and a sense of peace. The ocean is essential to me, and being as close as possible to it, is vital to who I am as an individual. Nantucket is the perfect example of a location that can instantly recharge my core emotional battery in that way. Just by setting foot on the island, feeling the ocean breeze, and observing the ocean’s vastness from the roof of the Whaling Museum or coastal road, I appear centered.