Scotland

11/26/14, “Scotland”

New York, New York

In 24 hours, I will be at Newark Liberty International Airport on my way to Indira Gandhi International Airport.  I will spend 48 hours in India.  The reason I am going to India is quite simple: to take a picture with my water bottle and a cigar in front of the Taj Mahal.  That is not a joke.  That is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.  I am flying halfway around the world and spending a fair chunk of change for that one picture.  Why?  Fulfillment value.  The Taj Mahal is one New7 Wonders of the World, and I am determined to see each of the 7 before I turn 30.  Irrational?  Hell no.

I will attempt to see seven World Heritage Sits plus Parliament in my brief time there, but only one thing matters: that picture in front of the Taj Mahal.  Well, that, and the replica.  I will return to Newark around 5 AM on Monday and go straight to the office.  I will add the replica to my desk and, if I can find it, the flag pin to my push board.  I will distribute some gifts, and then I will forget about India.  Assuming I get that picture and the replica, it will be decades before I return to India.

This is in such contrast to the last time I was at Newark.  Correction, the last time was the Redwoods.  The time before that, however, I was flying back from Edinburgh.  I love Scotland.  It is one of my favorite places in the world.  How do I describe the beauty of the highlands to someone who has only seen it in pictures?  How do I explain the feeling of walking out of the airport in Glasgow into the rain and aptly quoting Braveheart about good Scottish weather?  How do I tell someone who has only watched Mamma Mia how fun it is to call your brother from Glasgow and then sing the appropriate line from Super Trouper?

How do you explain to someone what it’s like to be in the land where your favorite play was set?  How do you explain to someone the feeling when you look at a castle in Edinburgh as the sunlight hits it in a magical way and know that you are looking at Hogwarts?  How do you explain to someone what it’s like to quote Braveheart ad nauseam once you walk into the castle and see a statue of William Wallace?  How do you explain to someone why that first glass of malt whiskey tastes so much better in its homeland than it ever did in a bar in New York?  You can’t.

All you can do is tell them to go to Scotland for themselves, and when you tell them that that, you cannot help but want to return  yourself, not because you need to visit another WHS, not because you want to gain fulfillment value, but because you want to go back, because you want to gain enjoyment value.  You return because you want to relive Macbeth: The Experience, because you want to go to Fife and Inverness, because you want to revisit the highlands, because you want sit in that castle in Edinburgh and read Harry Potter, because you want to go to the University of Edinburgh and sit in the courtyard and read and debate Hume, because you want to have another sip of whiskey in its home.

These were the thoughts that rushed into my mind as I began to read Hume a week ago.  Well, once I got over the brilliance of his writing, then I started to remember how much I loved Scotland.  He is the most brilliant philosopher I have ever read, and it is no surprise to me that he is from one of my favorite places in the world.  I cannot wait until I return.