“Do you live in Atlanta?” the man in seat 12B asked me.

“No.  I’m just passing through Atlanta on my way to Jacksonville,” I responded from the window seat, staring intently at the approaching Atlanta skyline.  I’m not one for small talk on planes and find that avoiding eye contact is a good way to avoid such trite.  Fortunately, I need only invoke this strategy during the first and last fifteen minutes of any flight.  In between takeoff and landing, I just pop in the iPod earbuds and contemplate the ability of clouds to support me in a seated position.  This usually does the trick.

“So you live in New Orleans then?” he continued.

“Nah.  Pittsburgh,” I said with pride while still avoiding his gaze.  Anticipating his next question, I continued.  “I was in New Orleans on business and now I’m on my way to visit my boyfriend in Jacksonville.”

He was relentless.  “So, do you fly down from Pittsburgh a lot?”

I snapped my head around to face him.  Perhaps he could see the disdain toward mindless banter in my eyes.  I was hoping my retort would be the conversation ender.  “No.  And actually, I flew into New Orleans from Chicago.”  Ha!  That would stump anyone.  Realizing my eyes were cloaked by the heavy tint of Ray-Ban aviators, a Christmas present from Kyle, I gave up my attempt at an icy stare and went back to my previous attempt of trying to spot my Atlanta-dwelling friend, Eric, through my sixty-four square-inch, Plexiglas window.

But not even that could thwart 12B.  “Does your boyfriend live in Jacksonville?”

“Nope, he’s just passing through.”  I couldn’t make out anyone below, let alone Eric.

“So, he’ll be flying back to Pittsburgh with you?”  Who was this nebby feller, anyway?  I took a deep breath…

It is typically at this point in any conversation where I have to make a judgment call as to how to proceed.  See, I’ve told enough people over the past several months about Kyle’s little walking adventure that I am able to judge fairly well what his or her reaction will be even before I begin explaining.  People tend to fall into one of three major categories and my predetermined, stereotypical categorization of any given individual impacts my willingness to go into great detail about the walk, if any detail at all.

First, there are the Incredulous Non-Believers (the “INBs”).  The INBs by far make up the majority of folks out there.  Most INBs have lived their entire lives “by the book,” usually in a suburban setting surrounded by similarly-situated Caucasian INB neighbors.  An INB finds joy in life by owning a nicer car than his or her neighbor and catching every episode of Survivor and Dancing with the Stars.  INBs typically work in office parks and attend backyard cookouts with their neighbors at which they discuss routes to work and the hotness factor of Megan Fox.

If an INB is a dog-owner, said dog is likely named after a famous pro-athlete or a character from Friends.  Furthermore, INB owners wouldn’t even dream of making their sweet pooch sleep on anything less than Egyptian cotton sheets let alone subject their mutt to fifteen daily miles of hot Floridian pavement and a two-man tent.

If, based on the foregoing, you’re worried that you might be an INB, I can assure you that you’re not.  An INB would never read this blog because an INB immediately shuts off any interest level in the project after hearing the phrase “Florida to Pittsburgh.”  Much like I am not equipped to follow a story spoken in Mandarin, an INB is not equipped to understand the nature, purpose, and doability of Kyle’s walk.  He or she simply cannot wrap his or her head around something so seemingly outside the normal routine of Monday to Friday life.

These limitations of the INB cause him or her to respond to news of the walk with something along the lines of, “What?!  You can’t walk from Pittsburgh to Florida!” or “You’re not even allowed to walk on the highway,” or “But how’s he gonna eat?” or just simply “He’ll never make it.”  I oftentimes have to fight back my ninja instincts when confronted with an INB.  Fortunately, while there are a lot of them out there, I personally don’t know too many.

Next, there are the Jealous Never-Coulds (the “JNCs”).  I would wager that this is the category into which you, special reader, fall.  I know I’m a JNC!  With that in mind, I must say that I find JNCs to be highly creative and intelligent with tremendous interpersonal skills!  Heh.  In all seriousness, JNCs aren’t afraid of testing the boundaries of society from time to time, though we typically live out our dreams on a smaller scale.   We work a day job and perform in community theater rather than risk it all for Broadway.  We enter our paintings in all-night local shows for charity rather than risk being a full-time starving artist.  Don’t get me wrong, I have great respect for JNCs.  We are pragmatic dreamers.

JNCs tend to live in urban neighborhoods and work for non-profits, schools, museums and internet startups.  JNC dogs are likely to be named after Greeks Gods, 80’s pop culture icons or science fiction characters and spend a great portion of their lives having their ears mauled upon at local dog parks.  JNCs are always up for trying new things and seek out personal betterment as a means of happiness.

JNCs are, thus, incredibly supportive of the walk and most interested in hearing about Kyle’s adventures.  Us JNCs totally get why he’s undertaking this quest and do not question its feasibility.  Most of us wish we could go along with him or embark on our own mission, but “can’t” because we are too scared, too fat, too busy, too poor, too much a parent, or too chained to our desks.  Whatever the reason, JNCs dream of being able to do something similar one day.

In response to the news of the walk, JNCs are known to utter such remarks as, “Wow, that’s amazing!” or “I give him loads of credit,” or “I want to do that!” or “Most impressive!” or “Boy howdy, he’s gonna have some great adventures to share!”  JNCs are living vicariously and loving it.  Most importantly, JNCs will help Kyle reach his donation goal to the Children’s Defense Fund!  It is therefore why I devote my greatest efforts and time to talking with JNCs about the project.

Thirdly, we have the Right on Mans (the “ROMs”).  ROMs are the rarest of breeds.  ROMs can usually be found working at your local REI, climbing gym, bike shop or delivering important documents to downtown INBs via bicycle.  Most ROMs have already completed an adventure similar to Kyle’s walk (if not immensely more difficult) or intimately know someone that has.  ROMs are a geyser of experience and smart tips for longwalking and guerilla camping.  ROMs, however, are not blog readers or donation-givers.  This stems from either the ROM not owning a computer in a personal refusal to embrace technology or from just simply being dirt poor.  JNCs enjoy being around ROMs as they remind us of the simpler pleasures in life.  I often find myself trying to impress an ROM by openly recycling in their presence or shopping at REI while clearly unshowered and wearing animal-friendly shoes.  The bottom line though is that I could never be an ROM, as I embrace personal hygiene and air conditioning too much.

Right on Mans are aptly named on account of their universal reaction to the news of the walk.  ROMs don’t usually require or seek out too much of an explanation beyond the introduction, as the concept of a dude walking 1,300 miles with a shoe-wearing dog is as commonplace to an ROM as music festivals are to a JNC or a Disney Cruise is to an INB.  ROMs name their dogs after mountain ranges or National Parks and think it cruel to keep an animal leashed or indoors.

So there they are.  Three major types of people in this world as categorized generally and judgmentally by me based on their social-economic status and corresponding reactions to Kyle’s project.  Now back to the skies over Atlanta…

Based on nothing other than the physical appearance of Mr. 12B, his propensity toward superficial conversation and the fact that I happened to notice several Dave Mathews Band albums in his iTunes library, I marked him quickly as an INB.  Admittedly, this demarcation may have been premature and possibly unfair, but with two minutes until wheels down and a connecting gate to reach, I did not much care.

Given his INB status, I also did not much care to get into why exactly Kyle was passing through Jacksonville but would not be flying back home with me.  I also did not much care to endure the disapproving looks and inane questions that inevitably spill from an INB’s marshmallowy face.

Accordingly, I searched for a way to respond to his inquiry without invoking further interrogation.   In a split second, I decided to just try honesty.   I turned to him, removed my sunglasses, looked him squarely in the eyes and matter-of-factly stated, “No.  He’s not flying back to Pittsburgh with me.  I’m going to make him walk home.”  He didn’t ask me any more questions.