Faraway Worlds -- I grew up with a fierce, unmet jones for travel. Trapped in a tiny town, I gorged myself on old National Geographics. Each bumble-bee hued issue held a kaleidoscope of possibilities. Jewel-toned snaps of faraway worlds swirled before me. Words? Articles? Who needed ‘em? The photos were rich enough fuel to speed me to jungles, through caves, to the moon. I read the odd caption to help me add texture to my dreams. “Young peasant girl pauses by field in Ecuador?” Are you sure? Look again. “Kim rests by field in Ecuador after rescuing village from raiders.”

NG’s pictures still call to me. But, when I time travel back to look at issues from the 1960s, I see more now than I did when I stuck to the photos. Many of the articles are condescending. The lens the writers peer through as they try to capture the world is much more set than a camera’s. They use their personal experience to focus in on their topic. Thus, their words often say more about their culture than the cultures they seek to document. They keep a tidy, hygienic American distance between themselves and their subjects. “Life over there tough? Oh, too bad. Funny little people. Guess they have to try a little harder. Be a little more like the good old U.S. We’ll wish them the best. But, hey, look at this neat rock!”

Do I expect too much? The name is National Geographic, after all. And, NG viewed international issues with very nationalistic eyes. In their battered sea trunks with the stickers—Belize! Fiji!—they toted all of their cultural and political beliefs. What can you explore when this is the case? When you carry “the answers” with you, what is there really to find out? What does it say about your “discoveries”? Your reporting? Your conclusions? Is it just super-comforting to always know that “our way is best”? The articles melt away in a blur of sameness. America is great. These people might be like us some day. If they’re lucky. Can we learn from these people? They’re kind of cute and unique. No, wait a minute. We’re smarter. Forget it.

I find myself staring at the ads. Cars. Some gadgets. But, when you pull the pieces together you get a picture of who—I guess—NG knew were their readers. Ward and Wendy WASPerson from WASPnest, Ohio, apparently. One magazine has sixteen separate ads for riding mowers. Men in cardigans and very rugged expressions on their faces glide around in endless circles on their riding lawn mowers while their wives are holed up in the kitchen, bulging out of their tight slacks and housedresses and mainlining their Special K breakfasts—4 ounces of orange or tomato juice (or half a medium-size grapefruit for the players), 1 ounce (1½ cups) Special K with 1 tsp. sugar, 4 ounces skim milk, and black coffee or tea. “…helps you reach and hold the line...” “The reason the Special K breakfast has been so successful with so many people is that it is a normal kind of meal.”

Normal is key. American normalcy. And, anything outside of that is too scary for words. Even when vacationing. Let’s take a look at the travel ads, shall we? India pleads with Ward and Wendy, “There are restaurants in India. Delightful, spotlessly clean restaurants…There are fine roads…Want to play a little golf? …feel quite confident that when you come to our unique and fascinating country you’ll enjoy all of the modern amenities of life.” New Mexico swears that it is: “Exciting as a foreign land! Comfortable as home!” And Canada, our neighbor to the north, promises that, “There’s no doubt that Canada’s Pacific Coast Province is a land all its own, but we’re not sure that you’d call it foreign” (heaven forbid).

On a Sunlane Cruise, Ward and Wendy can “sight-see your way to Europe, American-Style. Each evening you’re back aboard your Sunliner…relaxing in familiar American Comfort…with service that speaks your language…” (Not to worry. We don’t allow any of those scary foreigners in your cabin.) Even with Sunlane’s pledge to protect Ward and Wendy from all things foreign, they might opt to travel with their own shells. Like wee turtles, they can carry their “familiar American comfort” with them. They can “enjoy all the luxuries of home—hot and cold running water, heat, lights, comfortable beds, modern kitchen and bath…” in an Avion trailer. Or, better still, they can smooth out all those weird new experiences with an Airstream because, “It’s all the same with an Airstream Land Yacht…good beds, bathroom, hot and cold water, refrigeration, heat and light independent of outside sources wherever you go.”

Unfortunately, all is not perfect back in Ward and Wendy’s home. It appears that they are the well-off parents of wayward children. In the back of National Geographic, they advertise 45—count ‘em—military schools for young boys. While Ward and Wendy are gadding about, marinating in normalcy whither they roam, these schools promise to whip the lads into shape. They will: “Train for character” (no more pot smoking for junior), “have a homelike atmosphere” (we’ll beat your kids), “offer self-discipline” (we’ll cure Junior’s self-love problem), “provide a dynamic teaching system stressing scholarship, leadership, Christian character (pay us and we’ll yell at your kids and make them feel guilty), “prepare your child for college under ideal climatic conditions” (we’ll make your boys plow our fields).

As a package, the whole picture is jolting. The kids are off at military school being “trained for character.” Wendy is pouring a shot of Ward’s bourbon into her bowl of Special K, skim milk, and 1 tsp. sugar. Ward is restlessly cruising on one of his stable of rider mowers. The 1965 Lawn Tamer. The Power Horse (“mustang ability and sure-footed stamina with thoroughbred lines and looks”). The Springfield Lawn Tractor (“Love-at-first-sight styling”). The IH Cub Cadet (“Cadet is no toy: it’s a tractor”).

Ward and Wendy were very, very white in the ads. And, despite the excitement of the rocket age and all the cool appliances it has brought (RCA color TV with specially designed circuitry used in space satellites! The “Countour Cuddler for Two with Viveration Massage, Warming Thermonic Heat and an LP called 'The Countour Method of Relaxation' with a picture of an orgasmic woman that is free for those 'over 21'”!), Ward and Wendy seem very, very scared. Like, Ward’s tractor is no toy. It can defend his home, if need be. They want things to be normal. They like to relax in familiar American comfort. And, reading National Geographic is perfect. With that safe peephole on the world, Ward and Wendy find it super-comforting to always know that “our way is best.”

But then, I'm looking through my lens. The one I carry in my battered sea trunks. What do you see?

Photo Credits
1.Flag, Arthur Siegel, July 1942
Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, FSA-OWI Collection,
[reproduction number LC-USW361-761 DLC]
1.Kitchen, Russell Lee
Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, FSA-OWI Collection[reproduction number LC-USF34-32145-D]