Chicago, USA

Wicker Park.

I lean into the stacks closely to read the titles at a quirky bookstore fitly named “Myopic books”.

Piles of classics, beat poetry, chick lit and jitterbug funk to go through. A stream of adventures waiting to be explored. Literate hipster paradise.

Suddenly, I stumble across a dusty old book jacket. I pick it up.

“Thirty Things Everyone Should Know How To Do Before Turning Thirty”.

Oh, come on. Am I on Candid Camera? Is this for real?

Fine. I’ll bite.

I pay the $6 and put the paperback into my man-bag.

It turns out that I have a lot to learn. Quick.

I turn to a random chapter → ‘How to write superior thank you notes.’ How hard could this be? Apparently, and according to the book… the key is to emphasize and concentrate on the adverbs and verbs. The rest is inconsequential. People do not read it.

Dear so-and-so, thank you so much for the AMAZING whatever. I really LOVE it. It is the GREATEST and most MARVELOUS thing I have ever seen. I want to DRINK your blood. You are the BEST. LOVE, Daniel.

There. Easy.

Palmetto, USA.

A white minivan pulls up.

"Where you going?"

I give the gentleman the address.

"I not going there." says the driver.

"Excuse me?"

"That is south. South is jungle. Go north instead."

I'm at a loss for words. Generally, airport cab drivers are more than willing to entertain the idea of a large fare from an evening arrival. Generally, they're more than happy to take you to anywhere on the map.

"Go north. North is nicer. I take you downtown, ok?"

"No."

"I don't know where it is. You know where it is?"

"Sure."

I give him the address. Serenbe is a gorgeous self-sustaining community about 30 miles south of Atlanta. A kibbutz for grown-ups.

"You find it."

He throws a third-world GPS unit into the back seat. He starts slowing down and pulling over to the right lane of the road as he stares at me suspiciously through the rear-view.

I fumble around and enter the address. Three rounds of American Airlines' vintage merlot is racing through my bloodstream. I'm tired and cranky. I'm confused. This usually doesn' t happen this way. I hand him back the machine.

We start south on I-85.

About ten minutes later, the GPS starts making noises. "Turn left on hwy 14. Baleebraham Achnanoo Ahaveh". A combination of english and what I assume is digitized arabic.

Perhaps it was information overload, perhaps it was just a rough night. Either way, he starts screaming... "Where I go? Where I go? Ahhh! Jungle! It is jungle!"

I can only assume that we have different definitions of 'jungle'.

"There are animals here! Look! I throw carrot! Deers come! Look!"

He's not throwing carrots, although I think that he thinks that he is.

"Read the Directions! Read Them! READ THEM!!!"

I cannot read squiggle. I let him know this. Either way, it doesn't matter. We're going in a perfectly straight line.

His increasing hysterics could not possibly be more juxtaposed with the calm serenity of the natural environment outside of the car.

We arrive. I tipped him well for the theatrics and made my way down the dark gravel road that is the front entrance of Serenbe.

Ultramodern in the middle of nowhere.

Exactly what I was looking for.

New York City, USA

Use Seat Bottom Cushion For Floatation.

It’s written so matter-of-fact. A gentle typeface embroidered on a cool blue seat. It’s almost as if you’re not supposed to understand what you’re reading. It’s the kind of thing that if you truly comprehended what it was saying, you’d be taking the train.

If you happen to be in the position where you're contemplating using your seat bottom cushion to float, chances are that you’re almost about to…well… stop being alive.

Airplanes are designed to fool you. The whole environment is specifically designed to keep you calm during a spectacular series of challenges of the laws of nature. You are flying on a speeding bullet eight miles above the earth rocketing towards a different time and space.

From the second that you board, the gentle “Hello sir, how are you?” from a pretty woman in a nice uniform with a nice smile masks the true answer of “I’m terrified because you’re about to transport me into the ionosphere on a mechanical bird, you crazy bitch”.

The beverage service. The truly informative “how to use your seatbelt” demonstration. The clean organized rows of seats. The reassurances of the captain that we’re “over Charlotte, North Carolina”. The pillows and blankets. The smiling. The portal sized oval windows. The lack of a glass floor.

Babies get it. They understand because they are oblivious to the messaging. The second the plane powers up for takeoff, they start screaming. Nothing is more alarming to their months-old minds than the idea of being pressurized and shot into the sky.

Theme parks get it. They put signs saying “Scream!” on the top of rollercoasters. They cover them in strobe lights and laser beams. The whole environment encourages you to get high and make out with girls in the washroom.

Meanwhile, the most amazing experience that you may ever be a part of is watered down into a puddle that you might have to use your seat cushion to float on.