Maybe you’ve seen the cardboard cutouts of spectator’s faces seated in the baseball stadiums. The Dodgers are one of the teams that has cutouts. They had two prices, $149 and $299, with the proceeds going to the charities supported by the team’s foundation. I thought these were fair prices, somewhat close to what I’d spend on a night at the ballpark (the former) and (the latter) if I wanted concessions. I decided to forgo ordering from the Dodgers, instead getting a cardboard cutout from a printshop in Fresno for a fraction of the cost.
I mapped out my travel plans while waiting for my likeness to arrive in the mail. I ordered a number of padded envelopes (I need to travel in comfort), printed pre-paid shipping labels, and placed phone calls to all the people I’d be visiting. I also included a detailed itinerary so not to confuse anyone.
I was pleased with the quality of my cutout, I looked quite nice if I do say so myself. I named him Flat Tony. Soon after being delivered, Flat Tony boarded a motorhome with my friends Will and Dee for a roadtrip to the national parks of southern Utah and Arizona. I‘ve always said that Zion National Park is my happy place, so it was amazing to revisit it once again. But my first trip to Bryce National Park was more spectacular than I imagined. We hiked for hours, and I sat atop Will’s backpack, completely enjoying the views while also keeping a watchful eye on his two children. We last stopped at the Grand Canyon and once again I was awed by the majesty and grandeur of the grandest of erosion-induced landforms.
2020 was supposed to include my first-ever cruise. I was going to go to Alaska to see whales and glaciers. Remember the cruise ship that was docked in San Francisco harbor back in the early days of the pandemic? That was to be our boat, the SS Coronavirus. Despite the cancelation of all cruises, I still made it to Alaska, traveling via first-class mail to my cousin Jim’s house in Wasilla. The memories of this visit will last a lifetime. Jim took me fishing, whale-watching, and glacier-viewing. I included instructions to stuff me into the next pre-labeled envelope after a two-night stay. Like the fish we caught, I didn’t want to smell after three days.
I thought this summer would be a good time to check off a few baseball stadiums I have yet to visit. Jim mailed me to my cousin Dave in Ft. Lauderdale, FL. It was my longest journey of the summer, a whopping 3,300 miles. Dave took me to a Marlin’s game. Dave is a top-notch chef, so the food was picture-perfect. Dave then mailed me to my cousin John’s place outside of Tampa so I could attend a Rays' game. He then sent me to my cousin in Orlando, who then mailed me to John’s daughter Tracy in Atlanta so I could catch the Braves in action. Houston and Toronto now remain as my last two teams to visit. Since I don’t have family or friends in these cities, I decided to focus on traveling the country. Tracy shipped me North Carolina. Then it was on to the DC area to see a gaggle of cousins there. They then sent me on to Michigan to see relatives on both sides of the family tree. My final stop was in St. Louis, where more kinsfolk on my mom’s side reside. I cherished being able to see my aunt Shirley, who at 89 years old is the eldest stateswoman in the family. The get-togethers were special at every destination.
The St. Louis clan then sent me homeward. I arrived just in time for one more motorhome trek, this time with Rick and Lynn to Yellowstone National Park. The ride was as smooth as a fine wine and offered the needed rest after thousands of miles of air travel.
When Flat Tony finally returned home, I found my cutout a little worn and tattered. My corners were bent, and my edges were frayed. I needed a good disinfecting. I put my cutout in the car and drove myself around town. I went by my church which is still off limits. I thought maybe I should sneak Flat Tony inside on a Sunday. It might be cool to see myself on the next Livestream, peaking over the shoulder of Todd the drummer. I showed Flat Tony my gym, which I haven’t entered into since it’s brief summer reopening. I think of the owner, my friend Gil, and hope he’s surviving. I pointed out my favorite restaurant and its parking-lot dining area, thankful that the Chef is still cooking. We passed empty movie theaters and the massage studio that used to keep my back kink-free. I wonder if it will still be in business when the pandemic ends.
I decided to make one more stop. I went to my classroom. It was empty of course, a lonely reminder of our times. I looked around, sad that it will remain vacant probably into 2021. I wished for the clamor of learning in progress. Instead, like Zoom students on mute, there’s nothing but silence.
How weird I thought, as we drove home, how much our lives have changed and how different things are depending on where you live. I could drive a few miles south, cross the Orange County border, and experience a totally different level of freedom. Flat Tony got to travel the country, but I can’t go to church or eat in a restaurant. Unless I want to drive to Anaheim or San Diego.
Back at home, I showed Flat Tony my upstairs guestroom/classroom. He looked like he might cry, but he was impressed with the flat screen TV. So, I turned on the baseball playoffs. After weeks of travel, he looked right at home.
