When I was growing up, my family didn’t trip. We were typical excursionists. Like utmost ultramodern, middle-class American families, if we went anywhere, it was because we had been on holiday — short rest passages with a fixed launch and end, tied to the timetable of the working time, centered more frequently than not around visiting cousins to Philadelphia to see my relatives or long road passages to see my grandmother in Florida. Long Auto lifts, nights at big chain hospices, and visits to theme premises were par for the course. When I was about eleven( and too youthful to really enjoy it), we went to Bermuda for a couple of days. And, when I was sixteen, we did take a voyage.But that was the craziest we ever got. We “ traveled ” like middle-class Americans were supposed to. There were no backpacking passages, boarding excursions, or junkets to fantastic destinations for us. My musketeers and their families followed the same routine. They holidayed the way society told them to.In my mind,…
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