There is so much good stuff to choose from in life I get overwhelmed sometimes. Like a couple years ago when I went into a big box store and stood in front of the socks: ankle socks, knee socks, quarter socks, over-the-calf socks, thigh highs, tights, footless tights. Towering rows of sock in every color of the rainbow and three shades of green.

Another lady my age or better was cruising the aisle and I asked, "Remember when mostly what was available was black socks to wear with dark colored clothing, and white socks to wear with light colored clothing? Too many choices these days." And she nodded sympathetically.

Yeah. So. I might be morphing into that old lady who is nostalgic for a simpler time.

Except you can keep your hands off my 500 channels of satellite radio. When I get tired of NPR I surf over to BBC or CBC or RTE. I get enormous pleasure listening to the variety of cultural perspectives in the English-speaking countries of the world. Sometimes I tune in a French Canadian station, but my high school French only picks up about every seventh word so that is less enlightening but still good exercise for my brain.

I am somewhat interested in exotic places like Asia and India, but the other places in the world where English is the mother tongue, not a second language, seem to call to me.

So when I get a hankering to canoe across Canada or spend some time living in Limerick, I put my butt in the seat of my trusty chariot and head down the road with my satellite radio transporting me to those faraway places while I travel the familiar local roads of my little corner of the world.

And somehow too many varieties of socks seems less problematic.

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