Went to Sumter, South Carolina, yesterday to officiate the funeral service for my cancer friend Don Albright. So, I needed to file a flight plan and consulted MapQuest for the best route. Then, after advice from several other people, I decided to take the back way for at least a part of the trip, you know, the old country roads, or, as they say, the scenic route. So, I did I-26 to I-95, then exited the Interstate system at Summerton, SC, to do the final twenty miles or so the old way.
So, it was U.S. 15 into Sumter, through Paxville, the Silver Community, past the the Revelation Sanctuary Church, and some other colorful local sites you can enjoy when you're driving 45 mph, like the old store-front pictured. Just about the time John Denver started with "Country Roads, Take Me Home..." on the iPod, I realized that the only place I wanted this country road to take me was back to the Interstate. The scenic route was ---well---slow. It wasn't Norman Rockwell's "America", Charles Kuralt's "On the Road", or the promise to "...take me home where I belong." It was forty-five minutes to travel slightly more than 21 miles. My good intentions to slow down and smell the coffee resulted in me actually needing a venti Italian Blend with a double-shot.
Most of us don't realize how speed influences our lives. In his book Life at the Speed of Thought, Microsoft Chairman Bill Gates tried to explain how velocity would forever define the information age and change the pattern of every day life. Sound bytes and nano-seconds now measure the interruptions and pauses that delay normal and expected routines. Whatever vestiges of patience survived Y2K and our entry into the new millennium have been made obsolete by fiber optics, digital technology, instant everything, gaming innovations, smart phones, e-readers, and who knows what else. It is a culture that lives on speed, pun intended.
So, we introduce life innovations that slow the pace. You know, the coffee shop, the cigar bar, the five-course meal, the work-out routine, the scenic route. They aren't working. Just the other day I saw a lady about to have a nervous break-down at Starbucks while she waited in line for her Carmelito In Guacamole Frap Lite. More significantly, me, myself, and I, tried to take the slow route over to Sumter so I could enjoy the day, take in rural America, touch base with the two-lane-black-top along US 15. It was a flop. After about five minutes I was slapping the steering wheel and wishing the granny in front of me would pull over and let me pass.
What I'm saying is this: people today are not wired for the slow lane. There's this ideal some of us chase, a dream world that paces us through life with a smile on our face, time to spare, moments to savor the blessings we encounter along the way, getting there early, leisurely meals. You know, chilled. But, it is mostly in our dreams! Truth is, we've been conditioned by the pace. We want things fast. "How much?" as a question has been replaced by "How long?". Yes, talk about the laid back life. Sure. Most of us can't handle Hooterville though. We're engineered these days for speed.
My lesson: go with it. I'm no longer ashamed of being on a fast-track most of the time. It is what it is! And, I'm not going to spend too many of my personal chips trying to occupy a pipe-dream that doesn't fit me. So, when I go to Cracker Barrel this week, I'll take the Country Sampler. Just make it quick---
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