I have always been a bit different! In pre-school, much to my mom’s horror, while all the children marched one way, I took it upon myself to march in a different direction. Every day in kindergarten my mom anxiously awaited daily reports from my teacher, Mrs. Tuller, on whether I’d been a good kid or a bad kid. In the early 80s, there was no type of gray area or acceptance of differences, either you were a follower or a “good kid”, someone who strictly obeyed all the rules and never questioned or flaunted them in any form, or you were an outcast, rebel, problem child. And, sure enough most days, I was the latter…a problem child…

As I grew up, I continued my independent streak, rarely straying far from my wild nature. In spring of my 8th grade year when it came time to sit down with my “guidance counselors” to discuss my transition from middle school to high school, I expressed my wish to take Russian language starting in 9th grade…..My end goal was not to necessarily learn the language, but to be able to travel to the Soviet Union, a privilege afforded only to those in the Bellevue High School Russian language program. What could be more exotic than visiting, in the words of President Reagan, “The Evil Empire”?

After receiving an F in 8th grade Spanish, my counselors thought I must be joking, akin to academic suicide….They said no way….If I could not pass an easy language like Spanish, how would I be able to learn a language with a different alphabet, a grammatical system that is to say the least daunting and verb endings that will make you scream!? My mother, who to the day she died was my biggest advocate, begged and pleaded with the counselors to give me a chance. They compromised! Two weeks to prove myself, then once I failed miserably, they’d pull my ass right out of Russian and prove their point…..that someone like me had no chance of passing one of the more difficult languages in the world.

Well……that two weeks came and went! I never looked back! Now, 32 years later, countless years worth of perfect marks in Russian language, a degree in Slavic languages and lit from one of the world’s most prestigious universities, the University of Washington and 16 trips to Russia, where I crisscrossed the nation from coast to coast by train 3 times by myself, I was going strong….Nothing could stop me! As the old Queen song goes:

(Don’t stop me now)

‘Cause I’m having a good time (hey, hey)

(Don’t stop me now)

Yes, I’m havin’ a good time

I don’t want to stop at all

And just like in pre-school, where I marched to the beat of my own drummer, history repeated itself! I was not going to be the typical American and “stay home and stay safe” binging on Netflix while having virtual zoom watch parties…FUCK THAT!!! The virus could come get me!! I just lost my mom so I was in no mood to follow the sheep over a cliff. I was way too restless! I rarely traveled domestically so the thought of traveling the US was foreign to me….but I had to find a way to get out of my state…

I attempted to find satisfaction in day trips around my area, but it just could not quench my unrelenting desire to travel. Finally after days of thinking, I came up with an answer!!! Idaho!!!!! The state was fully open and next door, Montana, after being closed for COVID, was opening its doors to the public on June 1st. No masks, no capacity controls, no quarantine, no nothing….I quickly arranged with my very reluctant pet sitter (who was the polar opposite of me) to take care of my pets. I gassed up the car, threw everything I needed into a bag and tore the hell out of corona prison…Only problem…..Idaho was 4+ hours away…..I’d have to stop for gas and something to eat and drink at some point….

I planned my route carefully to avoid the large cities where they were mask crazy, instead choosing to gas up in small towns where covid measures were treated as a joke. I pulled off about half way to Idaho in the town of Moses Lake, a rather medium sized small agriculture based city with conservative leanings. I don’t like conservative politics, having voted for Democrats my entire life, but at this point as the old saying goes, “beggars can’t be choosers”! And I was a beggar!!

There were signs at the door of the mini mart requiring people to wear a mask, but most chose to ignore them and went in anyways. The clerks at the mini mart likely were in no mood to argue with some burly bearded red neck dude In cowboy boots with a loaded rifle tucked behind him about wearing a face diaper. This was true “red neck” country a far cry from Seattle, where being caught maskless anywhere, was akin to murder and would get you at very least a very, very mean scowl and at worst a muffled diatribe on why you were a selfish loser.. I grabbed a Coke and a beef jerky and was on my way….Next stop….Freedom!!!

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