As I prepare to make the long journey down under, I thought it would be appropriate to post a portion of a book I have been reading: In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson. Next to Donald Miller and Liam Stone, this guy could be my new favorite author. He's hilarious and smart. I like that in a book. Anyway, here's the clip:
"Each time you fly from North America to Australia, and without anyone asking how you feel about it, a day is taken away from you when you cross the international date line. I left Los Angeles on January 3 and arrived in Sydney fourteen hours later on January 5. For me there was no January 4. None at all. Where it went exactly I couldn't tell you. All I know is that for one twenty-four-hour period in the history of earth, it appears I had no being.
"I find that a little uncanny, to say the least. I mean to say, if you were browsing through your ticket folder and you saw a notice that said, 'Passengers are advised that on some crossings twenty-four-hour loss of existence may occur' (which is, of course, how they would phrase it, as if it happened from time to time), you would probably get up and make inquiries, grab a sleeve, and say, 'Excuse me.' There is, it must be said, a certain metaphysical comfort in knowing that you can cease to have material form and it doesn't hurt at all, and, to be fair, they do give you the day back on the return journey when you cross the date line in the opposite direction and therby manage somehow to arrive in Los Angeles before you left Syndey, which in its way, of course, is an even neater trick." (Bryson, page 9-10)
So think of me as I fly out this Sunday, July 4th, from Seattle/Los Angeles/Sydney/Moree. As you are going about your day on July 5th, I will be somewhere between not existing and sleeping into July 6th.
2 comments:
Liam says, Ahh, that is very kind. Of course if he got up off the couch and wrote his own comment, it would be more interesting to read.
I think I like this guy... Although Douglas Adams still holds my #1 spot.
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