Years ago, when I was the metro columnist for the East Valley Tribune, I walked from the state prison in Florence (a bit of foreshadowing, as it would turn out) to Fountain Hills, writing columns about the people and places that caught my eye along the way.

 It was a meandering journey that covered 117 miles in 17 days. I started in Florence, walked to Queen Creek then to Apache Junction, Mesa, Tempe, Scottsdale and, finally, Fountain Hills.

More often than not, I was able to find lodging in the homes of the people I encountered along the way, which was my preference because these visits often produced material for my daily columns. I met a lot of interesting people on my journey, but one of the most memorable overnight stays came as I was weaving my way through Apache Junction.

A “mature” couple invited me to spend the night with them at one of the trailer parks occupied mainly by winter visitors or snowbirds, as they are called in the popular vernacular.

I had dinner with the couple and then the lady of the house excused herself to go tend bar at the nearby American Legion. As she left, her husband and I cleared the dinner table, then retired to the patio where we spent a couple of hours talking about lots of things in general and nothing in particular.

“How old are you?’’ I asked my host in an effort to break the awkward silence that had descended on us, a common thing when strangers meet.

“I don’t know,’’ he said. “I’m 67, 68. It doesn’t matter. I just want to live to 2012.”

Who doesn’t know how old he is, and why was his main ambition in life to live to see 2012? That was only six years off, after all.

So I asked him what was so special about 2012.

“I was working up in Canada and a fellow told me that down in South America, they found this calendar in a cave and it went back hundreds of years and well into the future,” my host explained. “He said the calendar ended on Dec. 21, 2012. He said the world is going to end then, so I want to be around to see if that happens.”

By now, I am sure most everybody has heard about this curious bit of archeology known as the Mayan Calendar. But back then, this was the first I had heard of it. It struck me as funny.

In fact, it still strikes me as funny.

Last week, my downstairs neighbor popped in to say hello.

“Sunday is my birthday,” he said.

“Really? That’s great,” I responded. “How old will you be?”

“I’ll be 22,” he said.

Then he said something interesting:

“You know, I think this is going to be the last year.”

At first, I didn’t know what he was talking about. Then I thought about the whole Mayan Calendar thing.

“The last year?”

“Yeah,” he said. “All over the world, people have been hearing trumpets. It’s all over the Internet.”

“Really,’’ I said, trying to hide my skepticism.

My young friend is a recent convert to Christianity and, I suspect, attends a church that puts great emphasis on the “end times.” As those familiar with Christianity know, the return of Jesus will be marked by the “sound of the Trump.”

My friend said folks all over the world have been hearing the sound of trumpets, if the Internet can be trusted. And, really, we all know that the Internet is a completely reliable source of information.

“Do you believe that?” my friend wanted to know.

“Hard to say,” I said. “No man knoweth the hour,” I said, quoting the Bible. “That aside, if you think about it, the world ends for lots of people every day.”

He didn’t seem entirely satisfied with my answer.

After he left, I started thinking about this whole “end of the world” business, not so much in terms of how accurate those predictions may or may not be, but rather why it is that so many people are so very fascinated by the subject.

My old host in Apache Junction and my young neighbor in Starkville have very little in common. Interesting that the “end of the world” is a subject both have enthusiastically embraced.

Both seemed unwilling to view the matter with much of a critical eye. Each was quick to dismiss any argument against their premise while cherishing those elements that confirmed their belief.

And so it is that while most people put little stock in anything the ancient Mayans held as absolute truths, there are many who will believe the pseudo-prophetic tale of the Mayan Calendar to be an absolute truth.

Some Christian sects, meanwhile, have been going up to mountain tops on specific days to greet the return of the Lord for hundreds of years. You hear about them now and then, folks who get rid of all their worldly possessions and trek up the hillside on the appointed day only to see that day come and go. I suspect it’s always a pretty miserable walk back down the mountain for those people.

Some people will circle Dec. 21, 2012, and wait for the end, convinced that the Mayans knew what they were talking about.

Of course, there are a great many people— we call them Tea Party Patriots and 99 Percenters — who are convinced that the world may end about six weeks earlier than that — on the day of the Presidential election.

If the Democrats win the White House, we will collapse into a reincarnation of the Soviet Union. If the Republicans win, the entire country will be doused in diesel fuel so as to hasten and magnify to the effects of global warming.

Me? I don’t think the world is going to end on Dec. 21.

Or Nov. 6, for that matter.

Truth is, for the overwhelming majority of us, our success or failure will have far more to do with the choices we make on all the other days than the choice we make on Nov. 6.

I doubt that’s an idea you’ll hear much about in the next six months or so, however.

Slim Smith is a former Arizona journalist now attending school at Mississippi State University. You can reach him via email at slimmovingon@gmail.com. You can also follow his “new life as an old student” at http://anelderstatesman.blogspot.com.