traveling shoes

paradise lost, books 3 and 4

2010-09-08T07:58:00.000-05:00

in books 3 and 4, we meet God. and, it turns out he is less "fun" than Satan. it struck me as i was reading--and as i have been discussing the poem with my students--that we are incredibly resistant to hierarchy. and, the God we meet in the poem is all about it. so. we side with Satan, even though we know we shouldn't.

Milton grew up praying morning prayers at St. Paul's Cathedral in london. he would have prayed often about service to God being perfect freedom. i think he tries to convey that idea in the poem too as we see God set out His plan for humankind. and i think he tries to show us how easily we are swayed from seeking that perfect freedom--how quickly we'll give it up--in order to pursue a false freedom of the sort that Satan offers.

Paradise Lost, Books 1 and 2

2010-09-02T07:25:00.001-05:00

Every time I come back to this poem, I realize again how amazing it is. The editor of my edition says that "Growing to understand Paradise Lost is a lifelong adventure." I think he is definitely right. I can imagine re-reading this poem annually and always discovering something new.

Here are a few things that struck me this time. I'm curious to hear your thoughts too!

This poem is gorgeous to read out loud. I read a big chunk of Book 1 out loud to myself and it was amazing. I heard things I'd never heard before. The rhetoric of the speeches was even more powerful. Satan had my ear. If you've never read any of it out loud, try it. You'll like it.
In Book 1, Satan and his compatriots are so proud. They remain proud throughout the book--that's their trouble, after all--but it stood out to me in new ways this time. One of Satan's most famous lines is that "The mind is its own place and in itself / Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven" (1:254-55). How true is that? And how often do I let my mind run away with me, making a "hell" out of what need not be one?
Satan's refusal to submit, his refusal to believe that he is not equal to God gets him where he is. But it's his addiction to a misguided notion of freedom that's the real kicker. Just a few lines on from the mind quote, he praises the freedom that he and his fellow demons will have in hell: "Here at least / We shall be free. Th' Almighty hath not built / Here for His envy, will not drive us hence. / Here we may reign secure, and in my choice / To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell: / Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven!" (1:258-263). Ah, Satan. So misguided. And, yet. How often do I feel the same way? That I'd rather be in charge and suffer the consequences of my choices than be patient and wait on God? Misguided or wrongly pursued freedom just creates misery.
In Book 2, I'm again struck by the audacity of Satan and his followers--their attempt to construct a kingdom that is a perverted version of Heaven. Heaven is their only reference point and, despite their striking defeat, there they are, trying to recreate the glory of heaven in Hell. But they're logical creatures and their discussion over how to best attempt revenge on God is an interesting one. But I love what Milton says, reminding us that God will use all that Satan means for evil in the service of ultimate good (that's back in Book 1 around line 210, but this knowledge carries with us throughout the poem).
Has Sin ever seemed less appealing? The personification of Sin in Book 2 (starting on line 650 of Book 2) is truly horrifying. If only I kept that image in my mind each time I begin to think that Sin is attractive.

simply from scratch summer

2010-05-13T17:42:00.001-05:00

so i've decided that this summer is all about (re)discovering simple joys. like cooking. and gardening. and reading. and baking. and (gasp!) cleaning.

i've kicked the whole thing off with some fun kitchen projects.

first, a goat cheese and chive omelet with chives from the garden, eggs from the farmer's market, and goat cheese from, well, hy-vee:

then, jam bars with homemade plum jam from last summer:

and, today, buttermilk bread:

local friends. you must help me eat some of these things. thanks to those of you who have already contributed to the cause!

so nice to create some brain space by creating with my hands and fresh ingredients. so nice.

new mercies

2010-04-29T21:36:00.002-05:00

it's thunderstorming out tonight. i sat on my porch--one of my very favorite places in the whole world--and listened to the rain and watched lightning trace patterns through the night sky. the quiet of the neighborhood, the hush of the rain, the flicker of the citronella candle as it mimicked the flashes in the sky. a sense of refreshment and renewal.

i thought back over my day. a good one. a day of productive rest. grading accomplished. errands run. time spent reading a good new book (wallace stegner's "Angle of Repose"). restful kitchen time chopping up more rhubarb and baking coconut macaroons.

sitting there, my gaze fell on my violas. and i suddenly felt a kinship with them. earlier this afternoon, i noticed that they were wilted and battered by the day's strong winds. i thought they were gonners for sure. but i gave them some water and, before long, they were perked up and cheery. by this evening, they were ready for the rainfall.

the past six weeks have been for me like today was for my violas. battered and broken by pre-tenure stress, anxiety, fear, and feelings of insecurity, these recent weeks have brought me renewal and refreshment. i think i am perking up and regaining my cheer.

as i look back, i see that God has been sustaining me always with His gifts: friends, family, church, satisfying work, a home that i love, new adventures, His truths. but in these past six weeks, post-tenure, He has been allowing me to enjoy those gifts in new ways. they are beginning to soak in and i feel myself coming into new life. i feel renewed. i feel, for the first time in a long time, excited about what comes next.

though it is night, i feel the truth of Lamentations 3:22-24:

It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.
They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.
The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.

Anne Bradstreet's semi-colon

2010-02-11T21:50:00.000-06:00

we read several of anne bradstreet's poems for class on monday. i've read her poems many, many times before. but this time, they were changed for me. this time, i had eyes to see her deal with the struggles of earthly life honestly, while also consistently affirming the truth of God. it was this poem that really got me. the semicolon in line 4 is the key to all of bradstreet's work, i think... more on that after the poem:

On My Dear Grandchild Simon Bradstreet, Who Died on 16 November, 1669, Being But a Month, and One Day Old

No sooner came, but gone, and fall'n asleep.
Acquaintance short, yet parting caused us weep;
Three flowers, two scarcely blown, the last i' th' bud,
Cropped by th' Almighty's hand; yet is He good.
With dreadful awe before Him let's be mute,
Such was His will, but why let's not dispute,
With humble hearts and mouths put in the dust,
Let's say He's merciful as well as just.
He will return and make up all our losses,
And smile again after our bitter crosses.
Go pretty babe, go rest with sisters twain;
Among the blest in endless joys remain.

the subject of the poem on its own is incredibly moving. mourning the loss of her third grandchild, bradstreet confronts God's nature. and the key, i think, is in that fourth line and its semi-colon.

the first half of the sentence acknowledges that the death of these beloved children is part of God's will--they have been "cropped" by His hand. then, a small pause. the semi-colon. not a complete break, but a pause. and, finally, an affirmation of God's goodness: "yet is He good." period. the line is perfectly balanced--the thing we don't understand set in perfect tension and balance with the truth we rely on. it's amazing what a semi-colon can do.

reading on through bradstreet's work, she comes back to this again and again. difficult things happen. yet is He good.

"pity the poor in spirit who know neither the enchantment nor the beauty of language."

2010-02-08T17:08:00.002-06:00

Paloma, 12-year old co-narrator of The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery:

"Personally I think that grammar is a way to attain beauty. When you speak, or read, or write, you can tell if you've said or read or written a fine sentence. You can recognize a well-turned phrase or an elegant style. But when you are applying the rules of grammar skillfully, you ascend to another level of the beauty of language. When you use grammar you peel back the layers, to see how it is all put together, see it quite naked, in a way. And that's where it becomes wonderful, because you say to yourself, "Look how well-made this is, how well-constructed it is! How sold and ingenious, rich and subtle!" I get completely carried away just knowing there are words of all different natures, and that you have to know them in order to be able to infer their potential usage and compatibility. I find there is nothing more beautiful, for example, than the very basic components of language, nouns and verbs. When you've grasped this, you've grasped the core of any statement. It's magnificent, don't you think? Nouns, verbs..."

Ah.

a good and timely word

2010-02-02T09:03:00.000-06:00

so, this morning i was reading in 2 corinthians, chapter 4 and came across a few verses that are so familiar, but that i hadn't really paused over before:

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. (v. 8-10)

there's so much there that is dramatic and a little scary--being afflicted, persecuted, struck down--but what stood out to me today is that we are "perplexed, but not driven to despair." i don't often feel particularly persecuted in dramatic ways. but i do feel perplexed. often. and it's hard, sometimes, not to feel like that is going to tip right on over into despair.

so, it's encouraging to me that we do not have to understand everything--that we will not understand everything--and that that is okay. we can be perplexed. we are perplexed. but, because of Jesus, we are not driven to despair.

what a relief.

roygbiv

2010-01-26T16:09:00.000-06:00

this happened completely on accident. i swear! a little touch of beauty in the midst of the mundane.

a lovely puritan benediction

2010-01-19T21:31:00.000-06:00

I'm reading William Bradford's Of Plymouth Plantation for the early American literature class I'm teaching this term and he includes in it a letter the pastor the first Puritan colonists left behind in the Netherlands, John Robinson, wrote to his brother-in-law, John Carver (the colony's first governor). Bradford says that in the letter, we see "the tender love and godly care of a true pastor." And I think he's right.

Robinson closes his letter to Carver with the following benediction:

"And the Lord in whom you trust and whom you serve ever in this business and journey, guide you with His hand, protect you with His wing, and show you and us His salvation in the end..."

I think that is so lovely. And encouraging. How great is it that I get to be encouraged like this while I'm preparing to teach my classes? Pretty great.

transitional phases

2010-01-10T23:37:00.001-06:00

i was listening to NPR the other day and there was a spot about this physicist guy who studies the transitional phases of something fancy that i don't remember the details about. but what stood out to me was the way this physicist was talking about how elements go through transitional phases--like ice to liquid water to steam--and how in the transition between states, something kind of mysterious happens.

and this made me think about how transitions and change are not always my favorite thing. and about how i sometimes can be pretty hard on myself about not liking moments of transition.

somehow the idea that even water--an element that has no emotions, no psychology, no anything except material existence--has to go through an awkward, mysterious, not-completely-understood transitional phase as it moves between states made me feel better about whatever weirdness i experience as i move between states in my own life.

it's a sort of affirmation that the difficulty of transition is natural--not just me not knowing how to do it right.

new year, new you.

2010-01-03T22:39:00.000-06:00

i am probably not unique in the fact that i have a love/hate relationship with new year's resolutions. on the one hand, the idea of a fresh start, a new beginning, a marked time for change is really appealing. on the other hand, it always feels like it comes with SO MUCH PRESSURE. in all caps. just like that.

so. this year, i almost resolved not to resolve. but then i had a change of heart. and i decided to resolve to resolve gently. to resolve to do things i *want* to do anyway. to resolve to do things i *already* do, but to do them slightly better. as proof of my gentleness, i have not started on a single one of my resolutions. except, now, this one: to actually write in this space more frequently. even if i feel like i have nothing to say. (thanks for the nudge, darby)

my other resolutions feel mundane, so i'll save listing them out. but the gist of it is to work towards living the life i want to live, but don't think i have time for. with some resolve, i'm betting i have more time to do the things i want to do than i think i do.

happy new year!

variations on a theme

2009-11-02T07:14:00.000-06:00

read this morning:

"The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning. I say to myself, 'The Lord is my inheritance; therefore I will hope in him!"

The Lord is good to those who depend on him, to those who search for him. So it is good to wait quietly for salvation from the Lord."

--Lamentations 3: 22-26

email doppelgangers

2009-10-15T22:19:00.003-05:00

i get emails for other "bstaffords" on my gmail account on a fairly regular basis. there's a bev out there, i think. and a brian. i get a lot of emails for brian. he gets invited to a lot of great parties in san francisco. if i lived there, i would totally show up to some of them.

and today, i "met" him. this morning, he sent his itinerary for a flight from london to dublin to "his own" address. i emailed him back and let him know that, as much as i'd love a trip to ireland, i doubted i could pass for him. he wrote back to say thanks and to say he was glad to know who was first in with the bstafford gmail address.

it's funny to finally have contact with this person i get mistaken email for all the time. i don't know him at all--but i kind of know a fair bit about his life. and, i'm kinda proud to have been first in line for that gmail address. hehe.

do you have an email doppelganger? have you met him/her?

calibraskan

2009-10-11T21:44:00.007-05:00

"calibraskan." that's what i've decided i am. and i think the events of the past week prove it.

saturday, october 3, i was in san francisco with my brother and sister-in-law at the hardly strictly bluegrass festival in golden gate park. it felt like home. which, technically, it kind of was for a lot of my life. growing up an hour south of san francisco, we went into the city a fair bit. when i stepped off the plane and looked at the hills, the traffic, the trees...i knew that this place will always be a pretty big part of me. here are some highlights:

you can spot gillian welch (with david rawlings) being her amazing self, the golden gate bridge, ralph stanley charming the crowd, and old crow medicine show as viewed from our spot in the woods. aaaaaaah. sigh of satisfaction and joy.

fast forward one week to saturday, october 10. omaha, nebraska. outside, it looks like this:

yep. snow. 4-5 inches of it. and my calibraskan self actually enjoyed it. and went to the last farmer's market of the season in it. without gloves. without proper shoes. and had a great time.

needless to say, it's been a good week. plus, all kinds of fun things happened in the middle of the week. i'm exhausted, but i'd do a week like that again any old time.

read this morning before the dawn's early light

2009-09-22T20:32:00.000-05:00

an oldie but a goodie:

The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of all the earth.
He never grows tired or weary.
No one can measure the depths
of his understanding.
He gives power to the weak
and strength to the powerless.
Even youths will become weak and tired,
and young men will fall in exhaustion.
But those who trust in the Lord will
find new strength.
They will soar high on wings
like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint.
--Isaiah 40:28-31

Sometimes verses like this, that are so familiar that they can (for me) lose their power, just strike home in a new way. These did that for me this morning. The day was still long and I feel tired now that I've reached its end. But the promise of renewed strength is a good promise.

hard times, hard times. come again no more.

2009-09-14T07:09:00.000-05:00

so the end of last week was not the best time ever. but the weekend was filled with good friends and good food. and what a difference that makes!

and now, i'm sitting here with my computer, my coffee, and one cat. it's early on monday morning, a cool breeze is causing the curtains in the living room to billow in just the way i like, and the sun is beginning to rise. birds and crickets are chirping and the neighborhood is starting to wake up. it's a new beginning.

thank God that we get these new starts in all kinds of doses--new days, new weeks, new months. who needs to wait for a new year?!

this monday morning feels hopeful. and for that i am glad.

a funny thing i heard in sunday school this morning.

2009-09-06T20:47:00.001-05:00

from the mouth of the pastor's 5 year old daughter: "i've got a Bible of Satan."

that. made. me. laugh.

we understood what she really meant. but still.

isn't it strange...

2009-09-02T20:03:00.002-05:00

how the spelling of a name makes it seem totally different from another name that sounds just like it? i'm reading a book in which a character is named janis. i don't even associate that with "janice" but it sounds just the same. it's funny to me how much i associate the mental image of the name spelled out with the person. does everyone do this?

so then i started thinking about how many folks i know have names like that and how i can't imagine if their names were spelled otherwise. anne is not an ann. marc is not a mark. cheryl isn't a sheryl. ali is not an allie. christy is not a kristi. and caron is not a karen. and vice versa. you get the picture. anyway. random thoughts. they abound.

Paradise Lost

2009-09-01T06:19:00.002-05:00

i love this book. but dealing with it at 6am, might be less than ideal... okay, okay. dealing with it at 6am, IS less than ideal.

better planning ahead will happen in the future...

ps. every time i read this, i confront the issue of how Milton makes satan kind of appealing and sympathetic. he gives such good speeches. the power of words is really quite amazing. i'm constantly struck by Milton's genius. reading this does more for me in terms of sparking interest in and thought about big issues like free will, predestination, sin, salvation, grace, justice, etc. than many a theology book i've picked up. it's pretty incredible stuff.

the first day

2009-08-31T10:04:00.001-05:00

so, the first day of class for me was thursday the 27th. and, it was a good one. i really enjoyed getting to meet each of my classes and to begin to get to know who my students are. they seem like a lively and engaged bunch so far. i feel like the semester will be a fun one, once it gets started.

first days are always hard for me. there's a lot of talking and "entertaining" that i have to do, and the whole thing just lacks momentum. that takes a few weeks to start to really build. so then i end up in a kind of limbo--all that remains to be done over the course of the term seems so daunting, but there is relatively little work that has to be done immediately. so, here i am. pressing through the limbo part and eagerly anticipating the part where the gears click in and the ride of the semester really begins.

it's really rainin' out

2009-08-26T07:57:00.003-05:00

a storm just arrived and now my windows are open and i'm listening to the rain pour down and the thunder rumble. i love it. especially since today--the first official day of classes--i don't have to be on campus.

it almost always storms on the first day of classes. pathetic fallacy? i think so. usually, i teach on tu/th and don't have to be there, but part of me feels a little sad for the freshmen, many of whom have probably thought long and hard about their "first-day-of-college-classes look" and now have to walk to class through torrential rain, ruining whatever impression it was they wanted to make. poor little rain-soaked freshmen. at least they'll be joined by rain-soaked teachers!

the strength of my convictions...

2009-08-24T06:49:00.006-05:00

got me out of bed at my new "new year, new you" time. now i'm sitting in the kitchen, drinking my coffee, reading, and listening to NPR as it plays softly in the background. any wagers on how many mornings will go like this?

a new year

2009-08-23T07:28:00.013-05:00

i met my freshman advisees for the first time yesterday, just hours after they moved into the dorms. i made them all write a letter to themselves, reflecting on how they felt on their first day on campus and what they hoped the semester would hold for them. seems like it might be good for me to make myself do the same thing.

the start of a new school year always feels more like a time for resolutions, etc. to me than a new calendar year ever does. it's also a time that i try to remember what i want my life to look like and who i want to be-come. this year, i think my sense of a need for balance and groundedness is stronger than ever. it's my 6th year in my job. it's time to apply for tenure, which involves a lot of looking back and a lot of looking forward. and, in the midst of that, i feel like it's easy to feel off-kilter and a little bit crazy. so. balance. groundedness. these are my goals for this school year. i want to try to include things like hobbies (embroidery, learning to play the guitar, cooking, etc.) and exercise into my schedule on a more regular basis. i want to be in the Bible more consistently and more deeply. i want to remember that, at its core, my job is FUN. i like what i do. i want to give in to my creative side and my wacky side. i want to embrace and express exuberance. (how's that for some fun alliteration?!) sometimes i wonder if that would be easier to do in a place like the cool school/church/house i saw in wisconsin this summer (pictured above). doesn't it just make sense that all of those things could/should be in one place? nice, i think.

we'll see how it all goes. my students get the letters they wrote back at the end of the term. i'll have to come back here, re-read, re-think and reflect on how the semester has gone. hopefully i'll be in a place that feels more grounded and not less. watchword for the term: God is in control. i guess, really, that should always be my watchword. but right now, it feels like i need to be even more mindful of that than usual.

oh. and i want to listen to NPR more. how's that for a resolution?

catcher in the rye. again.

2009-08-19T16:41:00.014-05:00

so, i just finished reading j.d. salinger's catcher in the rye. this is a book that i've read, oh, maybe 4, now 5 times. i first read it when i was in high school. even though it was required reading, i loved it. but i didn't "get" his angst. i didn't "get" his anger. i didn't understand how or why anyone would flunk out of school. especially not why they would do it repeatedly. holden was my peer, but he felt like a stranger more than a friend. holden was that kid who smoked by the lockers and who i looked at with curiousity--but not with understanding.

then i read the book a few more times when i was in grad school. it was a lovely change of pace from my steady diet of renaissance and early american lit. and, to be truthful, i hardly even thought about what i was reading. i just read it. and i was glad it was in a modern font and that it used language in it that was pretty much like my own. i liked phoebe.

having just read it again, i found that it broke my heart in all sorts of new ways. i realized that i am twice holden's age. a sobering realization. and i realized that holden and i probably had more in common when i first read the book than i could recognize then. he rebeled. i pleased. but, in effect, we were both in search of our more authentic selves. and i think that search, which was terrifying then, is compelling and encouraging to me now. holden knows things. he knows that we encounter a lot of "phonies" in this life. he knows that he wants to be comfortable in his own skin. he knows that some guys are dopey--but he also knows that maybe, just maybe, they are also terrific whistlers. and, more than anything, holden knows that sometimes we can all be madmen (or women). sometimes we know what we know, we know what we value, we know what we want to be--and we mess it up anyway. madmen.

midnight in the garden of...good and green? an update

2009-08-19T00:36:00.018-05:00

garden update: the thing has gone nuts! it's getting to be quite the jungle in there. and i'm eating its fruits as fast as i can, trying to share them with friends along the way. here are some pictures, because it's too late to actually write anything, but not too late to mess around on the internet, posting some photos.

gardening. groundedness. God.

2009-05-19T16:46:00.021-05:00

i've been having conversations about gardening with several friends lately. about our obsession with putting things in the ground, watering them, tending them, waiting for them to yield their fruits. and i've been thinking about how, when things are difficult, when i feel down, when i feel overwhelmed, i turn to my garden. it seems so cliche, but i think there is truth in the idea of the therapeutic power of a garden.

in one of these conversations, a friend said that he thinks gardening is holy. and i think he's right.

i've been thinking about how, when i garden, i feel a satisfaction in taking a task from start to finish and in being able to see the results of my labor. i feel a connectedness to people as i consider the produce that will grow from what i plant and how i can use that to feed my friends. i feel a closeness to God as i consider how He is a gardener of souls and how He set adam and eve to the task of gardening and caring for the animals in eden. at the end of a day of working on my garden, i feel like things are more right in my world.

it's amazing the joy i feel as i watch my peas add length to their vines and climb the tripods i made for them, as i watch my bean plants begin to blossom in anticipation of the beans they will produce, and as i watch little tiny beet sprouts emerge from the dirt i sprinkled seeds in just days before. and i think about how this all requires patience. about how i have to keep tending my garden until late june or early july before i'll get to eat anything grown from these plants.

i guess, really, i'm grateful to God for the gift of gardening. it wears me out, it produces real joy, and it teaches me a little something about the care He takes with me. the joy He must feel when my soul shows a little growth or a small blossom emerges. and it helps me to take heart, even when life seems overwhelming.

the thing itself:

Day One, part one: Omaha, NE to Mt. Rushmore, SD

2008-06-10T21:15:00.018-05:00

The day started as any road trip day should: with a coffee treat and a kick-off song. In this case, the coffee treat was a grande latte with one raw sugar from Starbucks and the song was "Get Back" by the Beatles. "Get back, get back, get back to where you once belonged... Get back, Jojo!"

The first few hours of the trip were through familiar territory. We ate up the road:

But then, a we hung a left on I-90 and sped off through uncharted lands. A few more hours of rolling plains and then this loomed ahead:

Yes. You are indeed seeing a very, very large antelope head made out of some sort of metal and plunked down in the middle of a verdant prairie. What you cannot see in this picture is that it was also accompanied by several smaller sculptures of things like flowers and fish. For this there is no explanation.

A few more hours down the road and we reached the spot we'd been seeing signs for over the course of hundreds of miles: Wall Drug. The place that, as Ali says, is famous for, well, nothing. It'll tell you it's famous for its 5 cent coffee. Or for its largest-in-the-world something-or-other. But, really, it's famous because it tells you it's famous. For miles. And when you get there, this is what you see:

As the photo suggests, we found Wall Drug less than impressive and did not set foot outside the car to explore. But, I'll confess: there is some satisfaction in being able to say "Yep. I've seen it."

Pressing on, we finally made it to the real sight of the day--Mount Rushmore, nobly re-named "Rount Mushmore" by Ali. The best thing about Mt. Rushmore is that it sneaks up on you. Once you turn off of I-90, you find yourself driving through a few small touristy towns, and then winding through hills on a highway lined with tourist-trap attractions, and then, just as you think you'll never find the thing itself, George Washington's profile appears, jutting from the face of a bluff. And then, as you round another curve, all four faces are revealed:

It is, friends, a sight worth seeing. It's far more impressive than I imagined; more moving, less cheesy. A taste:

The Grand Western Tour, aka the Great American Vacation

2008-06-03T14:42:00.006-05:00

The big picture: thirteen days, fourteen states, two drivers, one car, 5,000 miles.

When Ali and I set out on this journey, it was simply a trip during which we'd visit friends and family on the west coast, seeing a few sights along the way. We'd swing by Mt. Rushmore, we'd cruise through the Redwoods, we'd stop in at San Francisco, Las Vegas would flash by one afternoon. But, inspired by the proximity of some other great sights as we looked at our map during the first exuberant hours of driving on the open road, a tour of the West Coast soon morphed into "the Great American Vacation" during which we would also see the Grand Canyon and Four Corners, classic stops required to make that leap to American road-trip greatness.

The highlights of the journey follow.