On The Road Again
Traveling has always played a part in my life. Some of my earliest memories are of going to New Orleans and Morgan City, Louisiana each summer from our home in St. Louis. I am told my mother once flew to New Orleans with me on a leash and halter. I was old enough to walk and the relatives back in the South had not seen me in person yet. Dad could not get off of work to make the trip so mom decided to go alone, or alone with me.
Apparently it was not an easy task getting me through the airport and onto the plane. Keep in mind that I have no recollection of this at all. But as the story goes my mother basically had to drag me through the airport like a sack of potatoes. I would not walk. I would just lie on the floor and scream. I am sure glad that this me was not present to witness that me.
It does sort of illustrate that I have been a handful all my life. But the is a story for another time.
Riding on the City of New Orleans
The first trips I remember were on the storied “City of New Orleans.” That train was made famous by a song sung by Arlo Guthrie. The song was written in 1970 by Steve Goodman. He and his wife were on the train to visit grandma, his wife fell asleep, Steve looked around, wrote the song and the rest, as they say, is history.
The train trips morphed into road trips. Not until I reached a certain age did I understand how brave and enduring my parents were. Each summer they would load three kids and a miniature French Poodle into an unairconditioned car and travel thousands of miles in the summertime on two-lane highways. By the mid-fifties the trip expanded from my birthplace of New Orleans to St. Petersburg, Florida where my father’s mother had moved. We would be on the road for about a month.
Travel is in my blood. I love to do it. I love to see new and different places, or sometimes go to the same place such as Paris, France or New York City repeatedly to discover new things about that locale.
Which brings me to the question of why I chose a profession like law that basically makes one a hostage of one’s success? I hear my colleagues in the professional speaking circles talking of how they always wanted to live in this place or that so they moved. I mean it really doesn’t matter where you live if your job is going around the country, or the world, and giving presentations to organizations that are scheduling meetings all over.
A Hostage of Your Own Success
But the law profession is different. Once you land that first client you start shackling yourself to your location. There is no way reasonable way for me to move to another location not even 50 or 75 miles from here and continue to enjoy the steady flow of work, or let’s be honest, money.
Sure I handle cases that take me across the State and sometimes across the country but that is because clients who live or reside in proximity to me have encountered legal problems elsewhere.
A Little Jealous
So I am wistfully looking at a Facebook entry today from yet another speaking professional who has announced a move to another State. I wish her well. I know that the move will have little impact on her business. I guess I am just a little bit jealous.