Key To The City

Hi all

Still posting columns written since I got fired, for those who missed them. This one is a bit lighthearted.

I don’t remember when I first saw a film clip of the mayor of New York City handing over the symbolic Key To The City to some famous person. I’m sure I was a kid, and all the pomp and ceremony probably confused me a bit. The actual symbolic Key was over-sized and ornate. Banners draped the podium. Bands played. Citizenry cheered. Folks wore formal clothing, and flashbulbs popped, and carefully practiced smiles filled the view.

The Key To The City opened every door in the place, the ultimate in “Welcome to our city; it’s yours to enjoy!” It was the finest compliment a city could convey upon a person who had done something so admirable that no other gift would suffice.

I don’t expect to ever stand before a mayor to receive such an honor. Heck, I wouldn’t know what to do with a Key to New York or Chicago, or LA. Sure, it would open every door, but I wouldn’t know why. What does one do in a city, anyway? I don’t have a clue.

But don’t worry about me. I’m up for an award this Saturday that I worked long and hard to achieve, and it will open many doors for me that I will appreciate far more.

My award is called the, “America The Beautiful-National Parks and Federal Recreational Lands Pass-Senior Pass”. It’s the ultimate, “Welcome to our parks; they’re yours to enjoy.” No mayor will be presenting. No banner draped podium, noisy band, cheering citizenry nor pomp and ceremony will clutter up the event. And no one will need to put on a tie or practice their smile. I will be smiling, but I have no need to practice. It will no doubt come naturally.

Oh, and it won’t be happening in some city. I get to pick the site, and it came down to two. One might have been more cherished than the other, but only by a smidge. But the first is a thousand miles farther away, which would make for a long weekend. So we will travel to Yosemite instead, and at the Big Oak Flat Entrance Station the trees will tower overhead, birds will flit through the shrubs, a deer may watch from the shadows, and I’ll hand over my ten bucks and the drivers license that proves my age, and I’ll receive my Key. And all I had to do to earn it was live for 62 years. Difficult and admirable, yes….but doable.

They used to call this award the Golden Age Pass, but that made too much sense, so they changed it to that much more verbose America The Beautiful-etc. Either will get me into every national park, national monument, and the other federal recreation lands for free for the rest of my days, as well as shave off some of my campground fees, boat launching fees, and a few other expenses associated with having a good time on federal land. Just flash the card and wander through the gate, and Yosemite, Yellowstone, Grand Teton, Rocky Mountain, Glacier, and all the rest of our national parks can be mine.

And as we stand in awe somewhere in Yosemite Valley this weekend, and the mountain light flashes off the granite and the waterfalls rumble and the river burbles, my heart will swell and my eyes will glisten. And this will happen every time I visit until I no longer can crawl that far. This will be a treasured gift that will last the balance of a lifetime.

Unless they close the damn government, and my parks with it. That will most likely really annoy me this weekend. You’d think if they can run the government trillions of dollars into the red each and every year (without giving reality a thought), and far worse than that if we keep that most recent idiot in charge, they could keep the parks open one more weekend just for me.