in and out of a nutshell

In 10 months my friend Jimmy will be driving through Egypt in a one-liter vehicle, alone.
Here's how I've come by this information:

Yesterday Candice and I woke up appropriately late for a Saturday morning. After a fine breakfast and several cups of coffee and/or tea, we discussed the plans we'd made earlier in the week to go down to Big Sur. Well, sure, why not. It's not that far.
So somewhere around three in the afternoon we found ourselves trucking through the lush scenic forests of Hwy 1, headed south past Watsonville, through Monterey and Carmel, by wave-whipped rocks and cliff-sides, alongside a solitary Naval Base island, over stone pillar bridges, around steep turns and slopes, staring at a glistening, pink and blue ocean.
Big Sur was fun, but the nighttime overcame us, so we ventured as far as a quarter tank of gasoline could take us before turning back to go home. Somewhere in there lay the remains of a conversational dissection, echoing stories of parents in their younger years, expectations we face as children, the importance and banality of money, the enchanting draws of Southeast Asia, the wiles of coworkers.. faded away into a devouring sunset.
Back in Watsonville, we went to dinner at Jaliscos (make sure you pronounce the J). Fajitas with prawns and scallops, snapper, tomatoes, Modelos and a warm mission building says it all. Dinner was amazing, as usual. We talked and laughed, and wondered a little at our own circumstances. Who doesn't do that, you know?
I mean, this is California. We dream and live and love with all the fruit of the world on our backs. There isn't a dry moment. How can you not wonder at that?
On the way to the car, Jimmy called.
"Where are you!?! I'm in Santa Cruz! I thought we were going out?!"
"We are Jimmy, I'm about ten minutes away."
"Fine, I'll drive around then. See you when you get here"
So we skipped Target and cut the distance between Watsonville and Santa Cruz. Arriving back home was a nice break from the day. Jimmy was virtually around the corner, so he came immediately. And before long, we were talking again.
Did you know that in the country of Europe, people get 6 months a year off from working so they can live in peace and harmony, every year? Well I didn't, until Jimmy and Candice (and myself) got into it about the roots of Americanism and how we as a people are expected to do little more than work work work work work work work for a living.
Now, I like working, believe you me I do. I even worked 14.5 hours this past week. That's more in a week's work than I've done since like 2007.
Nevertheless, 98% of everybody else spends 8-10 hours a day at a job so they can come home and "do the things they really want to do." It befuddles me, and I held none of my confusion back last night when discussing the state of Westernized society, the economy, our supposed passions and dreams. I say, if you have dreams, pursue them. If you don't, do something freaking outstanding and fun anyway. But I'm not so sure building an overpass between Pleasanton and Livermore every day for 5 years is the best way to spend your precious hours of life. That's just me. Maybe it's art, and I just don't see it.
So, the three of us are sitting there in conversation when finally it comes time to "go downtown" for a celebration. A celebration you ask?
Why yes, a celebration; a celebratory brewskie to honor Jimmy's submission and acceptance into a land race spanning the distances between, um, London and India? To tell you the truth, I don't exactly remember the details because I had a difficult time comprehending the reality of the race in the first place.
We go downtown, set up a place at the Rush Inn, are greeted warmly by the infamous Mike Ryan, get some drinks and Jimmy gets down to business.
There's this race. It's an adventure race, much like any adventure sport you pay to become a part of. But this race is different, because the point is to create the most difficult circumstances you can imagine for the racers and see if they can even survive by the end. $1000 admission charge.
You get to use a 1-liter vehicle. Jimmy says, that's one-third the power of my Kia Sportage...so basically he's driving a Power Wheels.
In the vehicle, the "Team" which consists of Him, will drive the multi-country stretch between two locations (London and India?). There are no routes, no accomodations, and no prizes. But there is the adventure, structured by this company The Adventurists and the funds for the race are donated to some large charities. Jimmy will cross countries held up in serious governmental problems, hopefully meet a girl or two and maybe have a drink. Just so his Rickshaw doesn't get stolen.
We talked about it for a while, and in a state of flabbergast I said little. I honestly don't know what to think, since Jimmy is such a dear friend.
Later on with Candice, I mentioned that I think it wouldn't behoove Jimmy to take a tricycle and attempt to cross Nevada, first. I think it's going to be very difficult, and I'm not going to be secretive about that opinion. I would love to help Jimmy prepare for this, but I just don't know exactly what to do to prepare for the caliber of "adventure" that this trip will inevitably put Jimmy into.

So that's it, yesterday in a nutshell.
Mikie