Questionable Character

The New England sun was uncharacteristically warm and bright for a September day so I thought I'd follow in its footsteps and do some things that were out of character.

I packed myself a picnic and went swimming. And hiking!

I went to Walden. And thought it only appropriate to bring a worn copy of Walden for the trip. As I sat there on my beach towel, I wondered how many other pretentious souls had done the same thing before, how many thousands through the years, how many just today? Reading Thoreau's words, I kept thinking: you self-righteous bastard. The man is so full of himself. And paved the way for generations of self-important conservationists to come. Yet, his words can be so beautiful and there were moments when I couldn't help but to be swept away.

Let us spend one day as deliberately as Nature, and not be thrown off the track by every nutshell and mosquito's wing that falls on the rails. Let us rise early and fast, or break fast, gently and without perturbation; let company come and let company go, let the bells ring and the children cry-determined to make a day of it. Why should we knock under and go with the stream?... Weather this danger and you are safe, for the rest of the way is down hill.

Thoreau's digs. Building was not one of his strong suits. Writing was.

After my quiet afternoon of sun, exercise, and enlightenment, I thought it only appropriate to stop by the ice cream truck in the parking lot (whose vendor surely has a second house on the Cape now, judging from how much he made today), and celebrate Americana, capitalism, and all their excesses.

The Spidey stick tasted extra good in my air-conditioned SUV with a clear view of Thoreau's cabin replica.