That first
right-of-passage, a mammoth trip between high school and university, was
something four of us planned. Two dropped out early, opting university was
important immediately, while two of us decided it could wait. What’s one more
year in the lifetime of a 19 or 20-year-old? About six weeks into the trip, the
little tiffs and arguments had escalated to the point of no return and a final
blowout prompted Murray to head to Vancouver by plane and I made the long trip
home in a car with virtually no brakes.
The 1965 Rambler American, the Red Rocket,
lasted a few years after my return, providing me transportation to university. I
worked in the electrical industry so had customers able to supply me with
needed parts – parts like steel plates welded in where the rear shocks came up
through the floor of the trunk. The brakes never did work properly they were
beyond all knowledge and technology available to man. The Red Rocket took its rightful
place in the wrecker’s yard.
The
old adage “Time Heals All Wounds” does not specify how much time. In our case
it took 7 years, but we were young with pretty well our whole lives ahead of us
so time was on our side. We have remained lifelong friends ever since.
Fate
brought us together – in cars of all things. I was working near Steeles and
Jane and living in North York. Murray was living in the Jane and Finch neighbourhood.
I suppose we were both on our way home in the evening rush. Fortunately that
rush (hour) was not even close to what it is today or this could never have
happened. The traffic light at Jane and Steeles turned red and I was first in
line. I casually looked to my right and saw a face that I recognized in the car
that stopped beside me. It was Murray. He looked at me with the same
recognition. Both our faces lit up and we shouted and motioned to cross through
the intersection and stop on the other side. It truly was crossing from one era
to another.
There
was no animosity, no anger, no bad vibrations at all, only good. It was
difficult conducting a conversation with traffic whizzing by but we managed to
make plans to meet as soon as possible. Although it took close to another year
to really gel, our relationship had been resurrected and that became a moment
that will forever occupy a spot as one of the best moments in my life.
Murray
and I have both seemed to benefit from the experiences of our trip and have
conducted ourselves through life with some degree of decorum and grace. Neither
one of us are rich or famous but we have never run afoul of the law or been in
any serious trouble and we are both relatively healthy and things have turned
out pretty well – so I suppose we are both rich indeed.
Our
road trip was the beginning for me; the beginning of a lifetime of travel to
remarkable destinations. It provided me with the realization that travel would
become my Holy Grail, my ultimate quest in a never ending pursuit of happiness
and the best life that I could afford. Mark Twain
said it best, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness…”
That alone is a valuable reward.
