So I spent the day yesterday at the Toastmasters International District 53 Fall Conference up in Amherst, MA. Yes, I know how boring that must sound to you, dear reader. But I am a toastmaster, so for me this was actually fun and interesting and so forth. And I stayed much too late, considering I was up at five in the morning to get to the conference, and it was over an hour's drive away from home. I left fairly tired.
Yet despite of (or, maybe because of) being exhausted, I chose to not take the highways home, instead telling my phone to take me on a more direct route between Amherst and Vernon. One that involved all secondary roads. I did this because I've driven down I-91, I-291, and I-84 so many times over the past few years. It's sooooo boring. I much prefer taking the narrower roads through the countryside. Even if it is dark and late.
I especially love driving through the main streets of small towns. There's something about the look of old storefronts lining a street designed decades ago. I honestly can't explain it, but there's something about streets that time have passed by. Maybe there's something timeless there? Maybe it's just a window into how we as a culture were back then? Maybe it's just a reflection of what's inside of me? Don't ask me just yet.
In the Random Waves podcast, I try to find the non-mainstream stories to document and write about. Maybe it's the equivalent of driving through Monson when I could have easily driven past the Basketball Hall of Fame. Maybe it's uncovering something eternal? Maybe it's a window to cultures the mainstream isn't familiar with? Maybe it's just a reflection of what's inside of me? Don't ask me just yet.