2/16/15
Carlsbad, New Mexico (Carlsbad Caverns National Park)
“Who is John Galt?” It is the first
line of Atlas Shrugged, but it a quote that is familiar even to people who have
never read the book. It is posed as a
rhetorical question meaning, “Don’t ask questions that no one can answer.” While it is all well and good to apply that
mentality to what Kant calls the impossible metaphysical questions of god,
freedom, and the immortal soul, but to apply it to every day life is to refuse
to think. It should be obvious to my
readers of the past three entries that that is not a mentality I endorse. It is in New Mexico, not far from where I now
sit, that Dagny tried to answer once and for all, “Who is John Galt? In the end, she finds John Galt, and she
learns exactly who he is.
Quite simply,
John Galt is the man who believes in the three laws of thought I have mentioned
and lives his life accordingly. John
Galt is the man who lives his life free of contradictions. When he discovers an apparent contradiction,
he checks his premises and his logic, and he figures it out, rather than
allowing himself to maintain the contradiction.
John Galt is the man who refuses to allow for the excluded middle. He is the man who avoids wishy washy answers
and half truths. He demands yes or no
answers to questions that require them and provides them in turn. He is the man who evaluates his options and
then rationally makes a decision, and he stands by his decisions.
Who is John Galt? John Galt is John Galt. He is who he is. By the time Dagny meets him, he has achieved
Rand’s perfect vision of an Objectivist hero, but he was not born that
way. Before he came to the point where
he accepted himself for exactly who we was, he must have found his flaws and
changed them. He did not try to hide his
flaws, instead doing all in his pwer to eliminate all of his flaws. By the time Dagny meets him, he accepts
himself for exactly who he is. Since
other people did not accept him for who he was he left. He refused to support the people who did not
want him, and he took with him the people who thought similarly, initiating a “strike
of the mind.” That is the man whom we
meet in Colorado.
Who is John Galt? John Galt is the man who lives his life the
way he wants to, not the way anyone else wants him to, and he does not hide his
true self from anyone. That is the ideal
to which I strive. Other people may
measure their worth by the acts of charity or value they provide to
society. That is fine, as long as they
do not attempt to impose their morals on others. I choose to measure myself by how good I am
to myself, but what I can achieve without using force or fraud against others,
about what I do for me. Is that
selfish? You bet it is. Maybe my next trip I will focus on the
“virtue of selfishness.”
I actually have
a little bit of time to recall the events at the caves before I head to my next
stop. I took too long getting out of the
hotel, and the breakfast was disappointing.
I was half an hour behind schedule by the time I got to the entrance sign. There would be a lot to do once I got to the
VC, and I knew that I could not get my enjoyment value until I was able to stop
thinking about what needed to be done for fulfillment value. On the drive to the cave, I played my
favorite album of all time: Let Go by Avril Lavigne. Even after 13 years I am not tired of
it. Once I got to the VC, I looked for
the plaque.
There it was! hidden behind
a lecturn. Seriously?!? That’s the respect they are showing to their plaque? Canada and Mexico could really teach them a
lesson. I went to the gift shop and got
some souvenirs, but it didn’t feel Official.
I wouldn’t really be able to focus on anything else until I got my
stamps. I went to the bookstore, but
they didn’t have the Official stamper.
The clerk there looked like he’d be more in place in Portland than
Carlsbad. I showed him what the Official
stamper looked like. They didn’t have
it. Alright then. I used the one they had and took out my
passport. I happened to have the sticker
in my folder, and I proceeded to stamp the passport...
.
..upside down. “There’s nothing Official about that.” It took me about five to ten minutes to do
all of my stamping, and the clerk looked on as I did so. I found out the dope about the caves. Actually, I really need to wrap this up if I
want to make my next stop. The said the
total walking to see everything would take almost three hours. I did it in less than two hours. As I headed to the natural entrance, a ranger
stopped me to give me the orientation.
There would not be a Uer for an hour, until we got to the bottom of the
cave.
Well, the entrance to the cave was
pretty secluded, so I waited until there was no one in view. “That’s Official,” I announced. I was completely wowed by the cave, it
putting Mammoth Caves to shame. Sure, it
was not as big, but the parts open to the public were more magnificent. I stopped for Official pictures when lighting
permitted and wallpaper pictures when not.
Two hours later, I was at the end.
There was a place to buy t-shirts and an elevator to the top, an
elevator that ascended 755 feet in not much more than a minute. I then went to the restaurant to get my
Official meal in the park, and headed back to the car to resituate. I got my computer bag, lit up my Cohiba, and
headed to the picnic area, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will
now close so that I can get one last picture with the plaque and head to the
next stop.
Albuquerque, New Mexico
Well, here I am, back where I started.
I will be flying home in five hours, which means I have time for a smoke
and a meal in Albuquerque. After I
closed, I had a four and a half hour drive to the next site, which I wanted to
do in one shot. That meant I needed a
full stomach, a full tank of gas, and an empty bladder. I had just eaten dinner, so I went to one of
the trails on the drive out to make it Official. I stopped for gas on the way out. Continuing my Avril Lavigne kick, I moved
onto Under My Skin and lit up an Ashton.
I had an arrival time of 5 PM on my GPS, which was when the VC closed,
but I had faith in my ability to make up time on the road. I made up almost the entire thirty minutes I
was behind schedule, also smoking a, what the hell did I smoke, oh, right, I
got it backwards. I had an E.P. Carillo first,
and then an Ashton. After I finished
Avril’s 2013 album, I listened to Vanessa Carlton’s 2002 album and some of my
favorite Taylor songs.
I got to the VC
and got my stamp. The park was called
Salinas Pueblos Missions NM, but the pueblos were nowhere nearby. That was how I had messed up my timing. The clerk told me I could get to one of the
sites by close if I hurried. It was
about 4:55 PM as I pulled in to the site.
As I got to the VC, I saw a car pulling out. The VC was closed, and there was nowhere in
sight. That meant that I would have no
trouble making it Official, but I was seriously worried about getting locked in
if they closed the gate on me. I took a
quick walk around with an AVO and went into the car, putting on Les Miz. I wanted to go to cigar store first, since
the restaurants in Old Town would be open later. I used my GPS to find a cigar store, but no
one picked up the phone.
Once I got cell
service back, I find one that closer to city center and open until 7 PM. When I pulled into the parking lot, the
lights were on, but there was no one inside.
I parked and walked up to the door.
To my surprise it was open. The
worker walked up out of the lounge, and I went into the humidor. The prices were good, but the cigars were not
in good condition. I got four Padrons
and two Flor del Antilles. I went into
the lounge, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will close so that I
can head out to dinner and big The Return Journey.
Albuquerque, New Mexico (Old Town)
I hardly thought that it would be possible for this trip to be any
more enchanting, but sitting here in the heart of Old Town is the perfect
ending to a perfect trip. I typically
save the reflective entry for the airport, but, because of what I’m about to
write, it should seem obvious that it is more fitting to write it here. The Southwest is one of my favorite places in
the country, the historic sites, the beautiful dessert landscapes, etc., but,
while I have visited the Southwest many times, I believe that this is the first
time I have truly experienced the Southwest.
No matter how wonderful this trip has been, it saddens me that I was not
able to do my epic 11-day trip that I had planned when the government
shutdown. If this 3-day trip has been
one of the best of my life, I do not doubt that that 11-day version would have
made the top ten, maybe even the top five.
What are the top five? In no
particular order, the National Park trip I took with my parents a lifetime ago,
my Eurotrip in 2013, Antarctica, Israel, Alaska. Rounding out the top ten might be Greece, the
WWI trip, the CA-4 trip, the stranded trip in California during Sandy, and,
well can I lump all the 2- and 3-day stamp runs into the tenth place spot? I love doing those. I am on my own for 2 or 3 days, developing
some of my best philosophy, collecting stamped brochures, and experiencing Our
America. It allows me to clear my mind
or focus on only the things I want to focus on.
I do not think it would be immodest to say that I have developed some
very good philosophy on this trip. It
seems such an obvious thing once you accept Aristotle’s Three Laws of
thoughts. If you love someone, you love
them absolutely. Assuming you are John
Galt, assuming you live your life free of contradictions, assuming you are
willing to exclude the middle, assuming you believe someone is who they are,
you must accept that statement.
Assuming
all of that it, if you desire someone romantically, it would be illogical not
to be happy to be “just friends” with him or her. If you find someone a desirable romantic
partner, then you must also find him or her a desirable friend. If you are friends with someone of the gender
towards which you are oriented, it would be illogical not to consider him or
her romantically, even if you reject the idea because of facts and
circumstances. If you want someone to be
happy, that means you want him or her to be happy no matter what, so long as
they do not change who they are, stop being the person you love.
As much as Taylor Swift wants to complain
about the “Teardrops on her Guitar” or insist “You Belong With Me” she has to
be happy for Drew if he is happy with who he has found. In the first song, well she pretends to be happy for
Drew. In the second song, she doesn't bother to even pretend. Why? I will charitably allow that is because the
girlfriend has brought him down, as the song implies, but she’d still be
singing it even if the friend in the second song found the perfect girlfriend for himself, as Drew did in the first song. She can be jealous and cry on her guitar all
she wants, but that is a case of emotions overtaking rationality.
Dagny Taggart would never cry over any man. Continuing my point, if you want to be John
Galt, you can never hide who you are.
Every attribute of yourself, you either accept or want to change. The middle is excluded. Reader, how many people do you know who hide
their true selves, who pretend to be people they’re not while making no attempt
to change themselves, the “phonies” as Holden Caulfield would call them. I think that John Galt and Holden Caulfield
would get along quite well. Hmm, idea
for a short story.
Anyway, I’m cold
sitting here, and I should probably explain why I’m sitting out in the cold,
but I’ll wrap up the reflections first.
There are 401 units in the National Park Service. The ones I visited today brought me to
221. That leaves 180 units. Saying I can visit 6 in a weekend trip, that
leaves 30 of these trips that I can take.
Granted, some require more time, but those will be done as separate
trips. If I do four of these per year,
that will allow me to take these trips for another 7 years, by which point
another 20-30 units will be added, which would have to be visited on a more
sporadic basis. Anyway, I probably have
a decade’s worth of these trips, and that makes me very happy. Within a decade, I fully expect to be married
with kids, which means that I can start taking my family to revisit the sites I
have already seen once I get my wooden plaque, and that, too, makes me very
happy. Other than my distraught on
Saturday, I have been extremely happy this entire trip, and I almost don’t want
to go home. It’ll be even colder there
than it is out here.
Okay, why am I
sitting out in the cold? My computer was
almost dead when I left the cigar store, and I realized with a bit of dismay
that there would be no place for me to smoke and charge my laptop at the same
time. That meant basically either
walking around with a cigar or doing about four hours of writing at the airport
with no cigar. Neither was a good way to
end the trip. I picked out a restaurant
in Old Town, Southwestern fare, and put it into my GPS. I was surprised how empty Old Town was. Plenty of parking, no one walking around, the
shops and restaurants practically empty.
I was immediately struck by how enchanting it was, even in the dark.
I knew that I would want to write an entry
here. Maybe one of the trees would have
an outlet. I then saw a gazebo, and
guess what they had? Outlets. Perfect.
I bought a blanket at one of the gift shops, and the other one would be
open until 9 PM. I walked to the
restaurant, and they had outdoor seating.
Even though no one else was sitting there, they said I couldn’t smoke
outside. Well, that was
disappointing. That reminds me of a
humorous exchange I had with one of the girls from the ship at the airport in
Ushuaia as were waiting to board the plane.
I had pulled out my bag of cigar labels.
“What’s that?” “All the cigars
that I smoked on my trip.” “What do you
do with it?” “Put it in a box with the
bags from my other trips.” “And when
that box gets full?” “Put it in my
parents’ attic and start a new box.”
They did not approve of that, implying that I was a hoarder. I didn’t care. I am who I am, and I had no desire to change
that particular aspect of me, nor did I see it as a flaw.
Anyway, I finished the cigar and went
inside. I got their appetizer sampler plate,
which was delicious, along with a local beer, which was not so good. I couldn’t finish the plate. I then went to the gift shop. After I was done there, I lit up my Flor del
Antilles, put the souvenirs in the trunk, got my coat, computer bag, and the
blanket and headed to the gazebo. The
blanket was big enough to both sit on and wrap around my legs at the same
time. I plugged in my laptop and
proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close. I suppose that I will need to formally close
out this entry at ABQ, but this is the triumphant entry. It’s been a great trip, and I’m a little sad
to be going home. The good news, though,
is I’ll be coming back in the spring to do the World Heritage Sites in the
northern half of the state.
Albuquerque International Sunport, New Mexico (ABQ)
I guess I could technically say, “After I closed in Old Town, I headed
to the airport and got to my gate with no further ado, where I proceed to write
this entry, which I will now close, along with this trip. Next stop: blah blah blah.” That would be boring, though. It’s true.
That’s exactly what happened. I
cleaned out the car and packed my bags.
I stopped for gas and wiped down the ash and tobacco leaf. The airport was practically empty. Security took only a few minutes. I headed to my gate, actually the gate across
from mine, since in it was quieter. I
took out my phone and opened Facebook.
My heart skipped a beat.
Reader,
remember those nine people I mentioned the other night, the nine people whose
happiness and pain I can feel as if it were my own? The one on that list whom I most adore, I
think of her almost exactly the way I think about my cousin. The “facts and circumstances” with my cousin
being, well, the fact that she’s my cousin, and my aunt would make for a hell
of a mother-in-law. I am closer,
however, with my friend than I am with my cousin.
She was travelling to DC this weekend. This morning she messaged me that she was
concerned about getting home tonight.
Sure enough, her flight got delayed by two hours, but she posted a
picture of herself on the airplane. When
I opened up Facebook, her mother had posted that she was stuck in DC. No, that wasn’t right. The flight was just delayed by two
hours. Nope, the flight was in fact
cancelled. I was saddened. I then checked Google News. The airports, along with all federal office
buildings, in DC were closed. The city
was practically shut down.
When would
the airports reopen? When would she be
able to get on a flight? So many
questions raced through my mind. Reader,
you might be tempted to tell me that that’s not my problem, and you’d be right,
but that’s not the point. No, the point
is, someone I loved was going through something rough, and I was sad, not
because it had any effect on my daily life, but simply because she was
sad. What would John Galt have to say
about that? His answer would be quite
simple. She provides me with value in my
life, the friendship we share something that I treasure. When I see a picture of her smiling, or she
texts me excitedly about something that makes her happy, that makes me
happy. Should the inverse also be
true? If she is sad, should I not also
be sad? It would be illogical for me not
to.
Granted, there is nothing I can do
about it, so I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now
close. It’s been an amazing trip, but
the time has come to close it. Next
stop: I have no fucking idea. I haven’t
planned any of my March trips. They’re
all up in there, but possibilities are Mexico City, the Carolinas,
Philadelphia, and Louisiana. I’ll
probably try to do three out of the four.
No comments:
Post a Comment