Saturday, July 28, 2012

"So it is no wonder that the mass of people regard the wanderer as a cross between a romantic vagabond and an irresponsible semi-ne'er-do-well who can't - or won't - fit in. Which is not to say that those who are fated to stay at home and toe the line do not look at the wander with envy and, yes, even awe, for he is doing what they would like to be doing, and something tells them they will never do it unless they either "strike it rich" or retire - and once retirement rolls around, chances are it will be too late. They know that too.....
It would be remiss if I didn't add that if you want to wander, you're going to have to work at it and give up the one thing that most non-wanders prize so highly - the illusion of security. I say"illusion" because the most "secure" people I've encountered are, when when you come right down to it, the least secure once they have been removed from job and home and bank account. While those unfortunate enough to be locked into some despised and unrewarding job are even worse off. And if I have been favored with good luck all down through the years, I can also quickly single out scores of men and women spread around this beleaguered old world who, without "luck" have managed to live lives of freeedom and adventure (that curious word) beyond the wildest dreams of the stay-at-homes who, when fresh out of school, opted for that great destoyer of men's souls, security....
"They never taught wandering in any school I attended. They never taught the art of sailing a vessel, either. Or that of writing a book. It's all so mysterious and - yes- enchanting. And that is what I suppose this book is all about. For whatever its merits, I would like to think that there is just as much of frustration and failure (call it lostness if you will) as there is of the free-swinging, far-rolling time when, however rough the going, you have the feeling, F*** it! I wouldn't swap places with anyone else for anything on this earth.
Which is how I feel now, aged sixty-one and still more or less broke, slowing down in some ways and picking up steam in others, still with a roller skate on one foot and an ice skate on the other, yet only too well aware of the wisdom of the words...-Sterling Hayden

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