Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end.
So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.
I do the same. Some I remember, and other's all I can ask myself is, "What were you thinking?" And I know it's me asking because I recognize my voice, and I'm wearing my underwear. After a moment of deep thought, I answer myself, "Apparently, you weren't."
I like cloudy dqys at the beach. Those feet obviously belong to someone who is sitting in the sand with knees bent and legs placed widely apart for stability, probably leaning back with arms placed behind him for support, wondering why he's at the beach on a cloudy day? Or, wondering where everyone else is? Or, wondering who is taking a photo of my feet?
Quick note on your distance from OK City to Dallas: actually 205 miles (~330 km). If it was 390 mi and only took four hours, you'd be averaging 90+ mph. I think that only happens in Montana where they don't have speed limits.
By the way, I heard that Brits take trains everywhere (because of crowded roads?) and train place-to-place was also in time vs distance. Americans shun trains for the most part (even when there are some) just to show their independence and individualism, other things we're consumed by along with how much time things take and if each of us owns enough cars. Plus Americans don't get good education is math, so adding single-digit hours or days is easier than getting out a phone to figure mileage.
Who hasn't heard, "Are we there yet?" from a fidgety child strapped into the back seat. They appreciate the time concept better than the distance concept. "We'll be there by supper time" makes more sense. If it's a familiar route, kids look for landmarks. No one I know says, "I'll see you in 400 kilometres." It's four hours. That time estimate can and is a challenge, a dare if you will. Most drivers delight in shaving off driving time. The distance remains as is.
In Australia it is also time, rarely distance. My son came to visit last weekend, and he told the lady at the pub he lived "2 hours" away.
For the same reasons mentioned for the US above - we have long stretches of road with not much traffic outside the capital cities. But Australia is even more sparsely populated, while being pretty much the same size as the contiguous 48 states.
So, for me, going to Melbourne is 10 hours away. It is also 900km by road (560 miles).
Sydney is about 15 hours away (maybe more with the slow points now), 1500 km (950 miles).
Perth is 2 and a half days away (2500km, 1550 miles).
Sydney to Perth is about 4 days, 4000km, 2500 miles.
I had to look up the distances; I only knew the times.
Similar things are done in Britain. And I admit that I've never set out on a long drive without having given myself a target time for arrival. Which inevitably leads to certain bending of speed limits etc.
Today I have completed my last entry for the fourth year of the Promptly Poetry Challenge. It’s an experimental little thing, my poem, but it also contains a reference that I have been debating whether or not to explain in a Note. After much internal debate, I have decided to write about it here, thereby leaving the interpretation of the poem entirely to the vagaries of fortune and the viewing habits of its readers. Any work of art must stand or fall on its own sooner or later, after all.
The reference is to flat hedgehogs and it originates in a few lines of sheer genius from Mackenzie Crook’s delightful comedy TV series, Detectorists. Rather than write out the exchange, I have embedded the relevant scene below. It may be incomprehensible to Americans, since I believe you don’t have hedgehogs, so I will tell you that a reasonable substitute would be the possum.
All very mysterious but hilarious if you’re a Brit.
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