Dave Gorman's Wisdom

One of my favorite authors to read lately is Dave Gorman. All of his books fall into the genre of 'comedic travel journalism.' Yeah, you didn't know there was such a genre, did you? It's silly stuff, really, and some people may not get it. He's British (of course), but he's positive and optimistic, and he has a way of phrasing things that has made me convulse with suppressed laughter in my dentist's waiting room. Those of you who know me know that when I laugh, I laugh LOUDLY, so suppressing it is quite the trick. Some people may not appreciate his books about odd topics (finding 54 other people who share his name, or finding a string of Googlewhacks), but I find it gives me hope to know that such people exist. Wouldn't it be great to know that your purpose in life was to make other people laugh? That that was your job? What a fantastic thing!

I just recently finished his third book - "America Unchained." This one was "a freewheeling road trip in search of non-corporate U.S.A." Basically, after doing a four-month tour of his one-man show which left him completely disgusted with the 'sameness' of U.S. hotel and food chains, he went in search of the real, personal, 'mom and pop' U.S.A. He flew to LA to buy a car and travel across the country, not using branded fuel, branded hotels, branded food, or branded car repair. But the trip was also a road to self discovery for him, and he had some fantastic thoughts upon his completion.



This is the part I wanted to quote at present:

"Twenty years ago a journey like ours would have been easy. I can't help thinking that in 20 years' time it might just be impossible. It's a shame because these places - the good and the bad - are truer to the American spirit than anything the faceless, bland and acceptably average corporations have to offer. The chains offer us a world in which average things are guaranteed... I'd rather live in a world in which fabulous things are possible. I'll take a roller coaster instead of a train... I'd driven nearly 7,000 miles in order to cross a country less than 3,000 miles wide. It had been a journey with as many ups and downs, but in that instant I couldn't summon up one ounce of regret. That was when I knew I hadn't just worked out what it was I wanted America to be... I'd discovered what I wanted me to be. I wanted to live my life with passion. I wanted to aim high and make mistakes. I want to be a roller coaster and not a train... The final drips of happiness filled me up and confirmed for me something I'd known since day one. You don't need a convertible to feel the wind in your hair. You don't even need wind. Or hair. It's not a physical sensation, it's a state of mind. I want to live a passionate life. I always want to feel the wind in my hair."

And I think that pretty much sums up what so many people (including myself) have been looking for, too. We hear all the time that people want to 'live a passionate life' or 'be in the moment.' But isn't what they're saying is that they want to feel life, to really experience it, rather than just to muddle along, day to day?

I think it's human nature to want to feel that passion, that electricity, that hope and happiness. But to be on a roller-coaster instead of a train means we have to have our share of downs as well as ups. I've heard it said that you have to experience the sorrows in order to fully appreciate the joys. Heck, I think we all know that. Just when it comes time, it can be a hard pill to swallow.

I know the roller coaster of emotions that life's experiences brings can drive me absolutely batty. However, isn't that part of what makes life worth experiencing and what makes us who we are?

The point is, if we expect the safe sameness out of life (or chains), we are by default giving up the chance for truly extraordinary experiences - whether they be successes or failures.

I can't get excited by a bird singing outside my window, leaves dancing in the wind, or the moon shining on me and not get upset in equal measures at times, too. I can dance the vacation dance, sing in a parking lot, and love passionately, all because I can also have those low days where my spirits are in a slump, where everything goes wrong, or when there's truly a reason to grieve. I can cry at a Hallmark commercial if the scene is right (I'm alone, my hormones are just so, and the topic hits home), but I can also laugh myself breathless over a dog tangled up in a sheet.

So, all that to say, thanks, Dave. I'll take the roller coaster instead of the train, too. I can only hope that the happiness far outweighs the sad.