As some people know, I’m traveling in Israel right now. At this moment, I’m in Safed (alternatively Tsefat and Zefat), the home of the Kaballah and Jewish mysticism. To be ultra simplistic — a very cool place.
Forget that for the moment. I travel and have traveled a lot, ever since I was sixteen and took off for England and France with my friend Ed. That was more years ago than I will admit on a public website, but ever since then I’ve been fortunate enough to bebop around the world on a regular basis. Some like pot, others like whiskey, some like to dance the hully-gully. Travel is my drug of choice.
Being a news junkie, however, in all those travels I stayed close to home by incessant reading of English-language newspapers — the Rome Daily American and, of course, the Paris Herald Tribune (“Just tell your cab driver “sank too denoo”), now the International Herald Tribune. In more romantic days, it was the very symbol of Americans abroad. Remember Jean Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg in Breathless, the Godard flic with Seberg hawking the Trib on the Left Bank? That was, for years, the hip image of Americans abroad.
Them days are over. Way over.
The wise American abroad now stays tuned to what’s happening with the man himself — Matt Drudge.
Forget Travels with My Aunt or Travels with Charley. I travel with Matt.
By reading Drudge any time I want (virtually) I can stay almost as tuned in as I am in New York or L.A. — and without the absurd NYTimes filter placed on the International Herald Tribune.