Packing to travel

Traveling light? Not me. Even going to the dentist is a problem, since my motto for even the most trivial of trips is – if you can’t take it with you, don’t go. How long might I have to wait? Should I take my journal with me? (I always get good ideas when writing in public.) Maybe I’ll look silly writing on my knee. And how many extra ink cartridges should I take in case my fountain pen runs out? Can’t use ballpoints, they give me hand cramps. And the pen might leak in my pants, unless I take a whole brief-case to hold it, which looks a bit ostentatious in a dentist’s office. Read, perhaps. How big a book can I get into my little purse? I don’t like paperbacks; the print is too small. Have you noticed how the instructions on medicines is always so small that only the truly young and healthy have even a fighting chance of finding out precisely how this particular pill will kill you?

Going on the road for work is, as you might guess, an enormous “what-if” project. The general procedure is as follows; I pack everything I could possibly need in the event I should unexpectedly be cast adrift on a desert island for 10 years or so (a desert island with AC power, DSL, but no TV - I aspire to a connected, yet pure, life) check and recheck constantly, leave a day late, and make sure I have double supplies of crucial things like felt paint-pens in that particular color I prefer for highlighting obscure bass trumpet parts. I take enough works of philosophy to finally crack Kant, Schopenhauer, and Wittgenstein. Who knows, a rehearsal might be cancelled and I could use the gift of an evening to finally nail Wittgenstein, in a context of K and S. It wouldn’t take much self-discipline, since I’d have everything handy.

I arrive, get into the hotel room, and immediately turn on the TV. I might unpack my clothes, and put all the philosophy books on an exposed shelf so that I won't forget them when I pack to go home. Now that I have all the deep things of life sitting around me ready to be immersed in, I can safely snooze. Snoozing takes an unexpectedly central place in my routine, as I am able to snooze when I feel like it, which has to be good and beneficial, since I am responding to my deepest and most authentic urges. But I keep CNN on quietly, in case anything I really ought to know about happens.

I grab a book of philosophy, but there are only 4 hours till the rehearsal, so I really should be honing my knowledge of the repertoire. I don’t feel quite ready to do that, though, so I set the philosophy aside and imagine what it would be like to be studying. Doesn’t seem all that appealing, so maybe a cup of coffee would work the miraculous transformation. There are three sorts of coffee packet. Which should I choose? I could go online to check them out, but I am having a hard time getting connected. Better solve that problem before an important email comes in. I’m not going to shell out $10.95 for one day of Ethernet, but I don’t have an access number for earthlink. My cell phone battery is dead, so it will be an hour or two till I can call to get one.

This is when I unpack everything, since it is essential that I find the charger for the cell phone. It turns out to be loose in the car, but at least I got unpacked, and can now organize things in a more logical, productive, way.

After rehearsal I completely deserve a glass of wine and a Law and Order. Then, the day before returning, I sort all the papers I never looked at, to make sure I can deal with them when I get home. When I do get home, since they are so well organized, I don’t need to actually deal with them, since they are all under control. I have gained some insight as I go through the mail though. The heating bill is, after all, more urgent than the difference between the two books of Wittgenstein. For the moment. But I can take him with me next time.

©2004 AJM