Why do the Wrong People Travel? - Elaine Stritch

Travel they say improves the mind,

An irritating platitude, which frankly, entrenous,

Is very far from true.

Personally I’ve yet to find that longtitude and latitude

can educate those scores of monumental bores

Who travel in groups and herds and troupes

Of varying breeds and sexes

Till the whole world reels…

to shouts and squeals…

And the clicking of Roliflexes.

Why do the wrong people travel, travel, travel

When the right people stay back home?

What compulsion compels them

and who the hell tells them

To drag their cans to Zanzibar,

instead of staying quietly in Omaha.

The Taj Mahal and the Grand Canal

And the sunny French Rivera

Would be less oppressed if the Middle West

Would settle for somewhere rather nearer.

Please do not think that I criticize or cavel

at a genuine urge to roam.

But why, oh why, do the wrong people travel

when the right people stay back home

And mind their business

when the right people stay back home

And eat hot doughnuts

when the right people stay back home

I sometimes wonder

why the right people stay back home.

Just when you think romance is ripe it rather sharply dawns on you

That each sweet serenade is for the tourist trade

Any attractive native type who resolutely fawns on you

Will give as his address American Express

There isn’t a rock between Bangkok and the beaches of His---pianola

That does not recoil from suntan oil and the gurgle of Coca-Cola

Why do the wrong people travel, travel, travel

When the right people stay back home?

What explains this mass mania to leave Pennsylvania

And clack around like flocks of geese.

Demanding dry martinis on the isles of Greece

In the smallest street, where the gourmets meet,

They invariably fetch up And it’s hard to make them accept a steak

that isn’t served rare and smeared with ketchup.

Millions of tourists are churning up the gravel

While they gaze at St. Peter’s Dome,

But why, oh why do the wrong people travel when the right people stay back home

with Cinerama

when the right people stay back home

with all that Kleenex

when the right people stay back home

I merely asking

why the right people stay back home

What peculiar obsessions inspire those processions

Of families from Houston Tex

with all those cameras around their necks?

They will take a train

Or an aeroplane

For an hour on the Costa Brava,

And they’ll see Pompeii

On the only day

When it’s up to its ass in molten lava!

It would take years to unravel, ravel, ravel

Every impulse that makes them wanna roam.

But why oh WHY do the wrong people travel

When the right people stay at home."

and Yogie Bear-O

when the right people stay back home

won’t someone tell me why the right people stay back home.