I’m gettin’ itchy britches. I’m not entirely sure why — I have my sources of inspiration — but I gotta’ get international, like, soon.
Excepting Hawaii (which I think I must, as a) it’s in the U.S., and b) I was there for a wedding), I haven’t left the contiguous United States in some ten years. The last time was my senior year in college — 1993, gasp! — when I flew to Milan and spent ten glorious days under the Tuscan sun with my then-girlfriend, Erin. That’s eleven years ago.
I think that a little border crossing now and then is good for the mind, soul, and body. I’ve been perched up in my Times Square office for going on eight years now, seeing the world through the prism of Western Media. I’ve been absorbed in Soundscan, Neilsen, and opening weekends. I’ve been awash in the drone of air conditioners and traffic. Rare is the day that I notice birds chirping. Rarer still is the evening spent stargazing.
But it’s more than stargazing. For me, it’s about pushing my limits beyond the familiar and comfortable. It’s about language barriers, awkward silences, and the space in between.
Now, it’s not like I’ve spent my life in a small town. I’ve been to Europe twice. I’ve been to Belize, Guatemala, and Mexico. I’ve lapped up the sun in Bermuda, the Bahamas, Turks & Caicos, Aruba, and the British Virgin Islands. I’ve been back and forth to L.A. dozens of times, up and down the Central Coast, the Olympic Penninsula, Nantucket, Chicago, Boston, D.C., across Iowa by bicycle twice, back and forth to Colorado three times, up and down the Eastern Seaboard, to and from Graceland. I’ve done some traveling, and had my share of adventures.
But I’m restless.
Part of this new restlessness is derived from Friday’s screening of ‘Control Room,’ a terrific documentary produced and directed by two former MTV colleagues, Jehane Noujaim and Rosadel Varela. They spent last spring at Centcom Headquarters in Qatar documenting the Attack on Iraq, and specifically, the rise of Al Jazeera. It’s a smart, moving, and insightful doc — and these are just a coupla’ ladies I know from Chris’ edit bays!
Last night, I watched a midnight screening of ‘Moulin Rouge,’ which coupled with a recent revisiting of ‘Before Sunrise,’ only exacerbated my already inflamed romantic notions of a few weeks in Europe.
And this evening I watched ‘Step Into The Liquid,’ a cool little surfing documentary. I used to skateboard (I still have one, but the city streets are mean, so it gets little use), so I’m thinkin’ ‘How difficult can it be?’
So I just got done doing some Googling, and checking my American Airlines Advantage miles, and ends up I could get to San Jose, Costa Rica, for just $28 (and a few thousand of my AA miles). Ha! Twenty-eight buck! That’s just crazy.
So, after this week’s trip to Block Island, after July’s ride across Iowa, after August’s annual trip to Nantucket, I’m hopin’ to trade my linen sportcoat for a pair of board shorts and ten days of solo adventure. How often does that happen? Not often enough. But soon enough, Dear Reader, soon enough…