I’ve never seen London. I’ve never seen France.
Consequently, I’ve never seen anyone’s underpants.
But in a few months my wife Jamie and I will fly into France — wearing underpants — to do something that is completely nuts because my wife is bat-excrement insane.
In a couple months, we will be deposited in a French airport with nothing but backpacks and walking shoes. We will traverse 500 miles on foot, hiking the breadth of Spain, from Saint-Jean- Pied-de-Port to Santiago de Compostela. These are places I’ve never heard of. Places I can’t even pronounce.
So I’ve been doing some light reading on what we’re about to embark upon.
This 500-mile route was established in the 9th century and is one of the oldest religious pilgrimages in history. In fact, the route is CALLED the “Pilgrimage,” or “El Camino” or “Middle-Aged People Doing Something Stupid.”
But as I understand it, the Camino is basically just a really, REALLY long trail hiked by people who are trying to find something.
“A lot of are trying to find themselves,” says one expert I interviewed. “But after the first few days, most hikers are just trying to find clean toilets and decent insoles.” Jamie and I have been training for the past several months. We have been going on walks wherein we hike a few miles, and each time we return we give each other looks of mock terror because we know we will be walking five times this distance every day for A MONTH AND A HALF.
This will be the biggest, most notable thing either of us has ever tackled with the exception of having a new septic tank installed. And I am sitting here thinking about the Camino this morning.
I am the same age my father was when he died. Which makes this a pivotal year for me. I never expected to live this long. Frankly, I’m surprised I’m still here. Life has always seemed so short to me, but now it seems like it’s moving faster.
And I simply can’t help thinking about how much I’ve changed in the last four decades. I’m not even the same person I used to be. In my teens, I didn’t understand life. At this age, I still don’t understand it, but now I admit it.
When I was in my twenties, for example, I cared deeply what others thought about me. In my thirties, I quit caring what anyone thought. Now I realize they weren’t thinking about me at all.
Another big lesson I’ve learned recently is that life is too short to deal with toxic people. I used to try very hard to please people who treated me like roadkill. But I now realize that life is too short to deal with other people’s insecurities. I have plenty of insecurities of my own.
So, I’m not sure exactly why I’m sharing all this with you except to ask
for your well wishes, and perhaps your advice. Because as I say, my wife is insane.
Sean Dietrich is a humorist and stand-up storyteller known for his commentary on life in
the American South. His column appears weekly in newspapers throughout the U.S. He has authored 18 books and makes appearances on the Grand Ole Opry,
