The Road Less Taken

In the aftermath of September 11, I heard stories of people who, once they realized they were assumed dead, set out to live a different life – one free from the obligations and responsibilities of the present life.  When I first heard those stories, I considered the motivations and emotions behind that kind of decision.  I considered a person who felt trapped – by a wife, by kids, by a job that never appealed to them, by bills that piled high and by the friends, family and expectations that are part of a life with 30 or 40 years of experience.  As I considered the motivations of such a drastic, draconian behavior, I must admit that there is something alluring, enticing about dropping “off the grid” as it were. 

My next thought was if something like would even be possible nowadays.  Do you think it is really possible for a person to disappear but still exist?  Could one avoid cameras?  Could one avoid the police and various other agencies, as well as pictures on milk cartons and the like?  One would have to live by cash and would have to earn cash in a way that would not require identification.  We have an entire underclass in the United States who does this out of necessity but the subterfuge is more concentrated with work.  Imagine ducking the ubiquitous cameras and other technological trappings that surround us and remain anonymous, hidden.  It would seem to be a near Herculean task – so much so, it forces one to wonder if it is even possible.  It is just the U.S. or could someone drop off the map easier in England, Japan, Germany or Greece?  Does our technology and all-encompassing society create the desire to leave it all behind?

In the 1800s, Americans could escape easy enough because of our existence along the wilderness frontier.  Indeed, one theorist suggested that the frontier served as our cultural and societal outlet.  The people who went west were not just running towards fortune but also running away from the law, a wife with kids or from oneself.  As our frontiers have closed, we have turned upon ourselves in some ways and in doing so, we have made our lives more challenging and potentially more suffocating.  Most other countries might not understand stand this but our cultural wanderlust has characterized us and our inability to do it now without creating a true fresh start can be frustrating. 

Last week, a woman who left her family in Pennsylvania and disappeared in 2002 re-emerged in Florida.  For all those years, she had managed what many think is impossible and a few consider desirable.  She initially left her family upon feeling a sense of dread and helplessness at a pending divorce and losing her home by joining up with some caring didicots who were hitchhiking to Florida and asked her to join them.  She did and was spending the last seven years of her life with a man who, together, did odd jobs and worked only in cash.  She now has to face her family after giving up a life that she had clearly not envisioned.   

I’ve grown frustrated with technology and the seemingly comprehensive nature of the world around us.  I escape it by going camping and trying to remove myself from the phone my boss forced me into a few years ago.  Reading over this, it sounds like, in a few years, I’m going to be in a cabin in Montana, writing my manifesto and I’m very cognizant that it is something that needs to be avoided.  I’m not seeking to remove myself from people but from our inventions – like laptops, the internet, etc.  I have a beautiful wife and a wonderful life and have little to want or need.  Still, from time to time, I wonder about the liberating sense of leaving everything behind, hitting the open road and, as Bob Dylan said, “go out and see what others need.”