SAVANNAH—It’s hard not to love this town. It’s easy on the eyes, colorful, and there are flowers everywhere.
There are also sweaty tourists, out and about, on foot, exploring Georgia’s oldest city on a sunny afternoon. I wander among them, keeping at least fifty feet away. My surgical mask on.
For the past few weeks I’ve been rediscovering America. I’ve had friends email and ask why I’m on a road trip during a worldwide pandemic.
The answer is because I was starting to lose my mind at home. After almost a hundred months indoors, I had grown deeply lethargic. Maybe even depressed. A friend of mine recommended a change in scenery.
At first I was apprehensive about traveling, but then I figured: “You know what? My mental health is a wreck, and if I don’t do something about it, who will?”
This American tour has been good medicine. I’ve learned a lot, too. The first thing I’ve learned is that Georgia is hotter than the fires of hell. It is 102 degrees outside today.
is actually a valuable lesson because it reminds me of how artificial our society can be. We modern Americans, for instance, have air conditioning, non-stop digital entertainment, gourmet take-out, and round-the-clock Walmarts where you can buy spray cheese at any odd hour of the night.
But when you visit historic towns like Savannah, you get a sense of how life was three centuries ago. And it dawns on you that our modern electrified society isn’t necessarily the “real” world.
Early Americans’ lives were filled with real-world nature, agriculture, and back-cracking work. They were serenaded by crickets, backyard chickens, frogs, and distant pianos; we have car stereos and electric lawnmowers. They brewed rainwater-and-dandelion tea; I eat spray cheese on Fritos.
My wife and I walk over to Oglethorpe Square for a look around. The place is filled with young tourists seated on benches, all playing on…