My best course of life has been to meander when my opportunity is open. Straight lines make efficiency. Parallel lines never meet. A meander is like a quilt. I stitch my trail one alley, one street, one dumpster at a time.
I like a double-back-on-itself lolling course be it a walk in the woods or gallery crawl. I was known as the “kid who meanders” rolling along unhurried on the big red shiny Raleigh bicycle. If anyone in town wanted to know what was happening on the “side streets” and down the “alleys” they could get the low-down directly from the horse’s mouth. I usually charged a nickle for the advice. Services rendered.
Up street, down avenue, over alley. Turn, turn, turn, repeat. Stop by the park. Get some funky frozen yogurt. Visit front porch neighbors holding forth from rocking chairs and vintage citizen philosophers solving all problems, their AM-radio on “the ballgame”, freshly painted yard furniture. Shade tree Stoics. Solidly civic and full of pronouncements for young people who would listen and I listened. In bright sun and in haze I rode. Taking my time. “Be home before the street lights shine,” meaning dusk not when a thunderstorm broke.
In good weather I meandered. When it rained I jumped in puddles. The best course is really the one when you make your opportunities.
Little did I know at the time I was preparing to be amazed, practicing discovery, pushing back the edges of the unknown. Embrace the unknown.