Getting to 50

My sisters and I have this obsession: we have to visit all fifty states before we die. And the Rigneys are pretty particular about what constitutes a “visit.” You have to get out of the airport and buy something. It can be something as simple as a soft drink or a refrigerator magnet, but you have to buy something.

This is why, for example, I got credit for Utah during my 1982 trip to Alaska. I had an eight-hour layover in Salt Lake City, so I took a bus downtown, visited the Tabernacle, the Beehive House (Brigham Young’s residence that’s open to the public), the ZCMI department store, and some other sights. I bought lunch at minimum.

On the other hand, my sister Kathleen was not allowed to count Pennsylvania in 2009 when she got rerouted back to Chicago from Maine via Philadelphia. You see, there wasn’t enough time for her to leave the airport. She didn’t fuss. She knows the rules.

I have few regrets in my life, but one is that when my ex and I visited New Orleans in 1983 (after getting engaged in Baton Rouge), we drove over to Mississippi, where his father was briefly stationed in preparation for World War II service, but we didn’t go the few extra miles into Alabama. I figured I’d get there sometime, but no dice. The joy thing is that I’ve been asked to do a presentation in Alabama in April. Assuming that happens, that would leave me with Oregon and Idaho. So, Maureen (who at that time will have only Idaho left) and Kathleen and I are looking at a 2011 trip to see some family and friends and to wrap up the count for two of us.

And you can bet we’ll buy more than a soda in Idaho.