The Justice

NOT QUITE REALITY: The island of Captiva, located off the southwest coast of Florida, was home to the concubines of Jose Gaspar in the late 18th century. Today, senior citizens on Captiva live a life of unrealistic convenience.

I have always been skeptical about Daniel Boorstin's assertion that travel has become completely superficial. In The Image, a book I read for three different American Studies classes, Boorstin writes of a country so obsessed with convenience that it turned what was once adventure into pure luxury. He writes of a country that replaced the frontier-the place, according to the Frederick Jackson Turner thesis, responsible for the character of the nation-with Frontierland, the place responsible for Splash Mountain. Of course, I understand that much of America's experience with travel has become contrived. I know perfectly well that many Americans would rather go to Epcot Center than the actual countries it purports to represent with 10,000 square feet apiece, and I understand that driving an SUV through Yellowstone for a glimpse of a grizzly bear constitutes a wilderness adventure for many families. But I am not convinced that all excitement has been lost. I figure that no matter where you go, all it takes is an intrepid soul and adventure can be found. I decided that I was going to prove my own theory correct-that travel can be filled with cultural immersion, adventure and discovery-in the most superficial of all vacation spots known to man: Captiva, Fla.

The resort island of Captiva, located off the Southwest coast of Florida, was first put to good use by the Spanish pirate José Gaspar in the late 18th century. The island got its name from Gaspar (or "Gasparilla," as he liked to be called), for it was here that the pirate liked to hold his captive women concubines. Captiva may have once been filled with beautiful captured women, but now it seems most of the women on the island are above the age of 65. These women are prisoner to something much worse than the pirate Gasparilla: They are captive to a land of convenience, and I was going to make damn sure I didn't join their ranks.

Before leaving for Florida, I had just re-read The Image for the final paper of my college career, so Boorstin's words were fresh in my mind as I boarded the plane. Boorstin believes that as the means for travel have improved, the value of the adventure has eroded. It used to be that when men traversed the Atlantic Ocean, they would kiss the ground upon arrival.

Continued...

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