Polar Exploration

I was in the spare bedroom timing myself on how quickly I could re-pack. A cab was going to take me to the airport within the next hour. I was killing time. 

I still use the same packing process that was drilled into me during basic training. They would often test us on how quickly we could get our T.A.-50 packed. T.A. stands for "table of allowances"; beats me what the "50" means. 

I begin packing by putting the paperbacks I hope to get around to reading on the bottom. That helps to build a foundation so the pack can stand on its own, plus the books help to shape a sturdier frame.

I rolled all clothes tightly and separated them by items into different plastic bags, so that I could find what I needed when I would need it in an "expeditious" manner. Those army guys say, "expedite",  "expeditious" and "expeditiously" a lot. They could say "fast!" if they were so concerned with saving time, frantic even over a lost second or two, but polysyllables, you must admit, do command respect, especially when you're being bawled out and a stop watch is ticking.

At just about the two minute mark, backpack nearly packed, the wife came into the bedroom. I was finishing up, patting down a plastic grocery bag containing 10 pairs of gray tube socks, 10 pairs of underwear and a roll of toilet paper.  The things you'll need quickly and more frequently should be most accessible so they go in last, on top.

The wife had a checklist of things on her mind. Her voice soft, low, husky, jet lagged. When she asked if I'd remembered to pack this or that or something or the other, I answered in truth "yes" to each question except one. 

"Did you pack your medications?" That "yes" wasn't true.

When I'm out, that is when I'm traveling, catching trains and buses, hiking up Himalayan foothills or floating down monkey shit infested rivers, I leave behind those pills the doctor ordered.  

Be true to yourself I say, even if it is a self you wouldn't call being at its peak. I am my own guide and I like to guide myself with a different moral compass, one that doesn't consistently return safely back to the same magnetic pole, but one that has a needle that can spin rapidly for no apparent reason from one pole to the other without much forewarning. I like an inward get-away when I'm out, a get-away from self as much as a get-away from routine. I choose to travel to countries where I can prescribe my own remedies without a note from the doctor. Man. O. Man. You should see how my moral compass needle spins.

While I believe that first impressions are important and that in the end it does matter how people remember you, these things only really matter if you're ever going to see these people again.