Siren Song of the REI Catalog

The REI catalog showed up in the mail the other day, as it does occasionally. I love everything in that little booklet of outdoorsy goodness. I love the clothes, the shoes, all that GEAR--even the gear for the outdoorsy things I do not do (although that list is getting smaller, did I mention I've been rock climbing?) I love it all. And I was sitting at my kitchen counter paging through its copious attractions, I realized something profound: the REI catalog is just like vampire novels. Yeah, vampire novels. Would you like to know why? I thought so.
They are crack on paper. Metaphorical crack. Not crack actually embedded into paper (but I bet they'd both do brisk sales if that were the case). They are addicting in the view they offer you of a secret world just off, by this much, from the world you live in. I have read so many vampire books in the last year or so, that I am ashamed to cop to the number. In fact, I don't even know what the number is. The book I'm reading now? Vampire book. I didn't even know it when I picked it up, I thought it was just another Deanna Raybourne book. But, no--vampires. I am subconsciously drawn to them. The REI catalog has that same seductive pull. And how many REI catalogs have I poured over in the last year? Lots. Not to mention time spent trolling their website. The catalog is filled with fit, attractive people who do things like travel the world and effortlessly climb mountains and run trails and endlessly hang out at the beach and always, ALWAYS, find that awesome camping spot that is not right next to the jerk and radio, and the girls all know how to wear those cute skirts for things like hiking. And also, they appear to travel everywhere on their bicycles or in their Subarus. Like vampires, you know they don't exist in real life (who goes hiking in a skirt?), but dang if that catalog doesn't make you think they could. And if you had those cloths and that gear you could be young and fit and effortlessly climb mountains, and travel the world, and trundle your totally cute and well behaved kid along for the ride. On your bicycle. If you reduce them both to their essences, I think what you're left with is escapism and that's why they are the same. Anywhere-but-here-and-now escapism. And that's why I love them. No, that's not true because really and truly I love my here and now. I know that I would not want to live in a vampire novel. Although come to think of it I am married to a man with a fierce temper who has a hard time sleeping at night and hates morning sunlight. Hmmm. And really, I almost live in the REI catalog (I think Flagstaff is as close as you can get). But, man the escape is appealing. The adventure. The get out and do something that is not Sitting At A Desk........Oh my goodness, I have a bad case of spring fever.