In the debate about anywhere people versus somewhere people, I am definitely an anywhere person. The somewhere camp can be rooted in village life, with a radius of no more than thirty miles in which their entire lives occur, or Fran Lebowitz types – urbanites who believe fervently that their metropolis of choice is the quintessential city and the only place on Earth worth living in.
The anywhere people are my fellow travellers. Nomads who owe loyalty to every place they see and who can quite easily envisage their lives in every location they visit. People to whom the idea of putting down roots in a specific community and being tethered to a place is repugnant. Entrapping, limiting, claustrophobic.
There is a song by Lemon Jello called ‘Ramblin’ man’. This is me. I find myself on the road again, this time in Toronto, Canada. It’s my sixth foreign trip this year. The world truly has blossomed again, opened up. Brussels twice; Paris, Istanbul, California and now Canada. With another trip to Long Beach and the potential of Singapore at the end of the year. Like old times. Old times I took for granted.
Ramblin’ man gets to experience local life. The weird and wonderful thing about my work is that it immerses me in a group intensely for a finite period of time when we get to know one another intimately. The nature of the work I do seems to compel people to confide. As an outsider, I am non-threatening and people are indiscrete in their breaches of confidence with me about work. And often quite open about personal stuff too. If I were a local, this could never happen. I could not be taken into anyone’s confidence because a local is invested. As an outsider, I am not.
It appears that I have chosen an occupation – business consultant – which complements my natural disinclination to get involved. I do not wish to get involved with my clients’ businesses on any permanent basis any more than I wish to immerse my energies into my local community. Church flower arranging, parish council business and Chamber of Commerce shindigs are not my idea of fun.
The corporate citizen is a sub-species of the somewhere person; they put down roots (at least, for a number of years) in one ‘location’ – one firm – and commute. I have no commute, though I have a sort of permanent location in Hove. I do not think of Hove any more affectionately than I do York, or Singapore or San Francisco. I have no close friends in Hove, mere acquaintances and associates. Our social life is entirely elsewhere – wherever our friends happen to be: Michigan State, London, Leicester, Paris, Appleby Magna.
A friend of ours who works at Google, a single woman, travels almost continuously. She is that rare corporate exception and her roving feet have been propelled even faster by the pandemic. She now has the permanent excuse to work from home, and home, for her, can be anywhere. Namibia, the Greek Islands, Czechia are all office locations when the office is irrelevant.
It is good to be a travelling man. A ramblin’ man. I do not ever want to be tethered, at work or at home.
Ramblin’ man
John, you’ve been on the go ever since you were born
And I imagine few people in the world today have travelled as much as you have
Now why?
Well, I dunno
I suppose some of us are cave dwellers, some of us live in houses
Some of us like to be loose footed
I’m a ramblin’ man
I’m a ramblin’ man
Paris
Tibet
Sydney
Naxos
Rangu
Rotterdam
Runcton
The Cayman Islands
Malawi
Mauritius
Haight-Ashbury
Patagonia
Kingston
Kentish Town
Codrington
Koh Samui
Felixstowe
Fingrinhoe
Valmorel
The North Pole
Brixton
Antwerp
Gujarat
Prawle
Uganda
Shennington
Sudbury
Sri Lanka
Ecuador
Edinburgh
Stockholm
Abu Dhabi
Lexington
Lindos
Tokyo
HarlemIpanema
Nicosia
Granada
San Jose
Damascus
Mandalay
San Frandisco
Atlantis
Adelaide
Angmering
Arumpo
Amsterdam
New York
Kabul
Rwanda
Kyoto
Manchester
Prague
Mendhurst
Toronto
Madrid
Melbourne
Dublin
Dakar
Boston
Oslo
Tooting
Belfast
Botswana
Tonga
Rayburn
I’m a ramblin’ man
And you’re going to keep on rambling?
Oh yes, he he, have to