Maps

I don't know when I became fond of maps. Maybe it was on that 1960 trip, when we had AAA maps with orange lines to show us the suggested route, or the fabled Triptik, which was a kind of flipbook for your trip that helped you through the big cities and highlighted some interesting points. Maybe it was the Christmas before or the one after, when, with the aid of pictorial books by the explorer Richard Halliburton, I visited many of the wonders of the world. Halliburton's last recorded message: "Hardtack bully. Wish you were here instead of me." Almost as good as that wonderful line that came later, and not from Halliburton: "the weather is here. Wish you were beautiful."

At any rate, I love to look at maps. If I've been to a place, the map can take me back there. I can recall the scenery, maybe even the building, or something about the setting. If I am going there, I can build a plan and perhaps not be quite lost when I arrive. And sometimes it helps me imagine, or help deal with what I've seen on the news or read in a book.

I have a highway map of Wisconsin that I have taken a highlighter to. I've marked all the highways I can remember driving or riding on. And that's a whoopin' plenty: from Dubuque, Iowa, to Marinette; from Carthage College in Kenosha to Port Wing and Herbster on Highway 13 beyond Bayfield.

The wonder of travel is that I've been to so many places but have not been to so many more. And I've been through so many places that I haven't been to. I've been THROUGH Albuquerque, NM, two or three times, but never stopped: we camped outside the city once, but never went in, and I went through at rush hour one morning. One of my favorite memories is of an Albuquerque radio station playing a comedy parody of the Kinks' hit "Lola," but I didn't stop in town to listen, I pulled over on the Interstate on the east ridge so as not to pile up the car. Sometimes the map reminds me of where I'd like to go back, so as to have another look, another chance to enjoy.

Of course, you're wondering: "where we drank champagne, and it tastes just like BEER, c-o-l-a- BEER." "Well, I'm not dumb but I don't understand, why society frowns on makin' love to a lamb..." "Well, I'm not the world's most masculine man, but I know what I am, in the barn I'm a ram, to my Lola Sue..." this is disgusting, filthy, and totally unexpected, and I should receive an award for not causing a massive traffic delay when I first heard this exceptional radio parody. I laughed until I cried for about a hundred miles. This was 1991, before cell phones became anywhere near common, or I would have called the station and had a copy sent to me.

When we have a trip coming up, as we do to New York City, I love to study and see where various places, sights, events, etc., are situated, and how we can get to them from our intended lodging. I like to be surprised a little, but I like to have a sense of the terrain. Once the map starts to fit the terrain, I can relax and enjoy what the places have to offer instead of worrying about where we are and where we need to be. Once I get a grip on the subway map, I'll worry less about how to get home from Yankee Stadium and more about how the Twins will do against the Bronx Bombers.

In the next entry, I'll tell you a bit about how maps are useful but not exactly fair.