L U N A T A L K with Eva Moon

Feets Don’t Fail Me Now

August 27, 2008 on 9:04 am | In General Musing |

Friends keep asking me if I packed underwear on this trip. Even if I hadn’t, Madison is a city that provides for its visitors (see right). But of course, no Eva trip would be complete without some level of miscalculation and this trip is no exception. This may have something to do with my packing technique. I have a thing about traveling light. It’s all got to fit in the carry-on. Not that it did me any good this time around. The proper packing mindset involves several elements of self-delusion.

Myth #1: I’m good at it. I have the idea that I’ve got this down. I’m not sure where I got the idea, but it saves hours of planning and prep time. Just fling things in the general direction of a suitcase as the airport shuttle pulls up, zip and go.

Myth #2: I’m psychic. It’s not like it would be difficult to check a weather report. But it would be cheating. I need only close my eyes and connect with my inner doppler radar. NOAA with a gazillion dollars of geosynchronous flying hardware can’t predict the weather outside my window today, but I can sense conditions two weeks out and thousands of miles away. Except when I can’t.

Myth #3: It’s not like I’m in the wilderness. So what if I didn’t bring something. I can make do without it or find a store. This one is actually fairly accurate. Except when it’s not. One of the entertainments of a light traveler is smugly watching the struggles of heavy packers at the airport hauling carts piled high with refrigerator-sized suitcases. What do they have in there? Are they heading to the Klondyke with a year’s supply of bacon and hardtack? Heavy travelers take note: Your smugly entertained moment is at hand:

This trip’s miscalculation: Footwear. I brought sandals for walking. No socks, no sneakers, no stockings, no bandaids, no morphine. I love to walk and believe there’s no better way to get the feel of a new town than on foot. So you’d think I’d know better. I’m sure some part of me does, but she wasn’t around for the packing. I’ve put a solid twenty miles on these sandals the past two days and my poor dogs are panting. I tried slapping on some blister bandaids early on, but you might as well duct tape the space shuttle. The only thing left to do at this point is apply Madison’s best anagesic. That and a foot dangle in the lake and I’m good to go. To the #3 bus.

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