As early as 1823, The Supreme Court recognized freedom of movement as a Constitutional Right.  Of course, at that time, it referred only to domestic travel.  But today, traveling globally is as common as traveling from state to state was then.

Why do we travel?  To go home. To see loved ones.  To work.  To vacation.  To study. To escape. To be safe.  To be free. To have our hearts and eyes opened. The list is infinite.

Travel opens our eyes and hearts to “different” people.  A few years ago, I (and everyone else) was stuck in the Cairo airport for about five hours. A woman completely covered in black and her husband in traditional Arab garb were swinging their little son between their arms, trying to entertain him. The child was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and those tennis shoes that light up when you take a step. And I thought, “This is just a family, like any other, no matter what they choose to wear or what they believe.” Out of respect, I did not snap a picture of them when they weren’t looking, but I have never forgotten them.   My heart and eyes were opened.

How can Americans brook any random edict that bans freedoms of movement, domestic or global?

Do what you can. Be brave. Speak out.  Write.  March. Email your senators and representatives. Do not be silent.

Defend the freedom of the press — which today is called the media.  The first thing Hitler did was to abolish all the newspapers except his.  If the media is the “opposition party,”  I rejoice.

It’s been, well, not an easy week to keep one’s chin up, but I am doing my best.  I have said every chance I got, “I will not be a scared, angry old woman.”  It’s been a bit of a struggle.

Sometimes, a little road trip with a dear friend helps.  This morning was so foggy I wouldn’t have been able to see the hood ornament on the front of the Subaru if Subarus had hood ornaments.

We headed south down the valley to the Finley National Wildlife Refuge hoping to catch sight of the migrating Tundra Swans who winter over there.  I guess you could say we did. Never mind the fog. At the end of this boardwalk, there they were.

Absolutely took my breath away.

Look for beauty wherever you are.  You will find it.  And your anger and fear sort of dissipate like fog when the sun comes burning through.

A stream-of consciousness episode I had yesterday led me to look for a couple of old high-school classmates on Facebook.  I was interested in a particular man who came up to me in a restaurant last time I was in my hometown.  He didn’t take off his Stetson, extend his hand, or really even say hello. He just said, “Whar you livin’ now?”  I told him, and he responded by saying,”I think they got a lotta them librals out there, don’t they?”  I acted like I hadn’t heard him, stood up, offered him my hand, and said,”It’s nice to see you too. How are you?” Turns out, he grew up to be extremely bigoted in a number of ways.

Well, while stalking this man’s former wife, I came across the site of his very handsome and successful son, now a middle-aged entrepreneur who lives far way.  But what interested me were these great pictures of that son marching in front of an LGBTQ band, twirling batons.

Sure looks like fun to me.  I loved doing just that in our high school band many years ago.

You know, bigotry is never a good idea.