In the early 90s, my dad would sign up for these extra programs for teachers, Which gave us enough extra money to take vacations. While he spent his after-school hours in teachers' meetings I sat at the brand new computers that some grant money for the school had acquired. That’s where I found chess.
As with any beginning, I was completely unaware of how to play and rarely captured a piece. But the pieces in Chess Master 2000 saunter across the board while wielding medieval weapons, so it made losing bearable enough to continue. I played Dad for a while but he became less enthusiastic as my win streak increased. I’d always prefer to play with a human sitting across the board from me.
More often than not, we went west on these vacations. West always meant long drives and unimaginable natural beauty along the way. I’d stare at the Rand McNally atlas and track our progress. A keen eye out the Ford Windstar window for any green or brown road sign. Green to find my location on the atlas page and brown to figure out what crucial historical event occurred near where I was sitting.
I’ve more photographs from that vacation than I do of vivid memories of the salt lake or the salt flats. It was a delight to see that some of those photos worked well for the album artwork of I Promise to be Brave. Otherwise, my attachment to the area was only vague recollections of folks floating on the water with ease and the sounds of gulls overhead. But I’ve thought of it often and desired to return as an adult.
Last year I was able to play shows in Utah and I took the opportunity to wander around the Great Salt Lake again. The water had receded nearly a quarter of a mile and there were far fewer visitors than I recalled as a kid. After meandering down the salt beach for a while, I set up my chessboard on a picnic table and FaceTimed a friend. She set hers up in Des Moines and we traded pieces across the board for about thirty minutes.
It’s a seventeen-hour drive home from Salt Lake City. That evening I drove under an October Hunter’s Moon and I thought a lot about my different trips to Utah over the years. Their differences and similarities. My differences and similarities. I thought a lot about the things that had led me back to that lake and back to games of chess. And how happy I was in that moment on the picnic table.
What or where captures your imagination again and again?
