The moments that really crystallize for me that I’m traveling, that I’m not where I was a month ago, let alone where I was all the years before this one, always happen around holidays. Every regular day of the year falls into a sort of rut in our memory, and that rut hasn’t varied too drastically over the many places I’ve visited. So this is February 23rd in Austin, Texas; there’s not too much to mark it as different from February 23rd anywhere else. So this is February 24th in Austin, Texas; well, that’s Oscar Night. (Yes. Oscar Night is a holiday. In my household at least.) And that’s exactly what makes me realize I’m traveling, that awareness of the things I’m missing back home. Who knows what happened on February 23rd in DC? But I certainly know what happened on February 24th.
We all have significant dates by which we mark the passing of a year, though those dates can vary from person to person and place to place. No one in New Orleans really marked Valentine’s Day because it fell so close to Mardi Gras. Whereas in the rest of the country it’s easy for Mardi Gras to slip by unnoticed, except maybe you’ll see some King Cakes in Whole Foods’ bakery section, but Valentine’s Day is sure to be driven home by a whole host of things. Dates like these make it more obvious that you’re somewhere else because the rituals we build up around them vary from place to place. Maybe in Portland, Maine there’s a parade on Halloween, maybe in DC there’s a zombie lurch.
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