Jessica McFarland

The United States of America is really, really big. Huge. I think that’s why most people never leave. I mean, what’s the point? We’ve got our hands full with our own country, thanks very much.

One can’t really get a feel for how immensely massive the place is until one makes a road trip. As I’ve said before, my family used to drive the 9 hours from Chicago to Nashville on a regular basis. This is child’s play.

Before that, we drove the 13 hours from New Jersey to Chicago when we moved house.

The journey was accomplished within a 24-hour period, meaning it, too, was a piece of cake.

The true road trip takes days and crosses mountain ranges and time zones and is a truly epic undertaking.
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I was born in Indianapolis, Indiana in the early 1980s.

And then we moved away when I was two. So I shouldn’t remember it.

Well, of course I don’t remember being that young. But I do have plenty of memories of Indiana, most of them in some model of Toyota.

For those of you who are not familiar with the geography of the U.S. midwest, I’ll give a bit of background. A map of Indiana looks like a spider web of giant highways (map below). This is because it is conveniently located between most places and most other places.

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Yesterday I spent a good couple of hours looking at swimsuits. (All in a day’s work.)

After a while, the strangest thing happened. I suddenly had this wild and weird urge to be in Florida.

Now, I’ve felt like I’ve needed a vacation for quite a while now. The weather is usually cold or windy or rainy or some depressing combination of the three here, and I inevitably spend the rare occasional sunny day indoors. It’s supposed to be summer, and what’s more, my American upbringing has implanted the desire for 3 months off deep in my psyche.

But Florida, really? I had no idea my situation was that bad.
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If you live in America, I realise that the subject of this post may not be immediately obvious. In fact, you may be thinking that this is about the Revolutionary War, or perhaps the War of 1812 (which was really against Britain, not Canada, if I’ve understood Simon Schama correctly).

In fact, it isn’t about anything with quite so high a loss of human life as an actual war. In fact, it just so happens that this Friday is the beginning of a little competition called the 2010 FIFA World Cup.

Now, I don’t mention this for your benefit if you live in, say, most of the world. You already know. One living in, for a more concrete example, say, England, could hardly have missed the sudden proliferation of St. George’s Cross flags and the remake of the Tears for Fears song, as well as the re-writing of every television ad for absolutely everything anywhere to make it about football (Support the England team! Eat a Kit Kat!).

But if you live in America, you have no idea.
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I have escaped London for Somerset (see figure 1). As I write this, I can feel the stress of living in the capital letting go and drifting away through the open window. Good riddance.

So today I’m going to write about something nice. I feel I need it. For the past several days, every time I look at the news it seems there is some new and previously unimaginable horror in the world. I continue to be, well, frankly impressed at how awful we can make life for ourselves and for each other.

So I’m taking a stand against it. The revolution starts here:

Right now, it is late May, and therefore, early summer. Contrary to all my previous experience of this country, it is pleasantly warm today. There are quite a few clouds, sure, but the air is still bright. There is a gentle breeze blowing. The trees are in full leaf, and they are swaying gently to it, as if it is a song they love but haven’t heard for a very long time. (more…)