MINNEAPOLIS — Fewer things in life are more traumatic than upheaval. It comes in many forms: births, deaths, and milestones reached. Changing…jobs, significant others, your mind, and the place you call home. To name a few.
Motorcycles aren’t assigned street numbers. They don’t have zip codes. But they do have gas bills. (And repair bills…which can be quite ridiculous.) Changing the place you call home from a location to an object designed to take you from location to location sounds exciting, and it is. But it also represents a complete upheaval of the concept of home. Home is now something I take with me and point in the direction I want to go. My backyard will be changing landscapes. My neighbors…a constantly evolving cast of characters. This all wouldn’t matter so much if where one makes one’s home wasn’t such a big deal with we human types. But our lives sort of revolve around our homes. My home will now be my bike and the 80 pounds or so of gear I’m carrying on it. My address? Wherever the rubber happens to be touching the ground.
And I’m proud to call it my home. As well as my office.
The work I do in this office will be to find people doing innovative things that are somehow uplifting to their “third-world” communities and economies. “Innovative things” and “uplifting” are open for broad definition. Innovation is the outcome of creativity. Uplifting is a product of individual perception. What is uplifting to one group will not be the same as the next. Some people are hungry; others are starved for direction. It all depends on their circumstances and their own perceptions of what “progress” means.
My job will be to find the people helping progress along its way. If I’m successful, maybe we’ll be able to triangulate a common destination for progress. Even if that destination is just another road, pointing somewhere we never thought of. At least that’s progress.