Whatever your thoughts about Election 2020, have no fear. Soon we are redeemed.

Amazon billionaire Jeff Bezos is preparing to usher us away from it all — far away.

Blue Origin, the space travel company founded by Bezos, just sent a rocket ship more than 60 miles aloft on its seventh test flight.

So far, the reusable crew capsule — named New Shepard in honor of Mercury astronaut Alan Shepard, the first American in space — has carried only scientific experiments and a dummy named Mannequin Skywalker, but company CEO Bob Smith said the firm was "very close" to welcoming tourists aboard.

Initially, Smith says, excursions to the edge of Earth’s atmosphere will cost "hundreds of thousands of dollars." Don’t stress: Just as with pocket calculators and Beanie Babies, prices are sure to drop. We need only be patient.

The trip is brief — 11 minutes — but up above the world so high even for a short spin, lucky wayfarers are sure to gain perspective. Who can fret about the Electoral College and exit polls when meandering through "the vastness of space" and gaining what the company promises will be "life-changing views of our blue planet?"

Life changing? Far out.

This is an even bigger promise than next-day delivery from Amazon Prime. It’s one thing to order a cordless carpet sweeper in the morning and find it on your doorstep the next afternoon, but an experience that alters the fundamental understanding of existence is entirely another story.

Just imagine. In the 17th century, philosopher Rene Descartes tried to define the human condition. "Cogito, ergo sum," he decided. "I think, therefore I am." A modern Descartes would lose the Latin and book a flight with Blue Origin. Three, two, one: We have liftoff and … enlightenment!

Kidding aside, it is human nature to try making sense of things — not always easy — and, in that eternal pursuit, the lure of new surroundings is understandable.

Americans are a restless crowd, anyway, forever darting this way and that. Yes, the pandemic has slowed us down, but the instinct is always there. Be on the move. See what’s around the corner. It’s deep in our DNA — as the 1941 recording by Tommy Dorsey affirmed:

Let's take a boat to Bermuda

Let's take a plane to St. Paul

Let's take a kayak to Quincy or Nyack

Let's get away from it all

Woody Allen understands the urge.

He loves New York and gives the city star billing in many of his films but on Sunday walks in Central Park admits he is thinking, "My god, wouldn’t it be great to be in Paris right now, or Venice?"

On the other hand, Allen recalls that he once bought a beautiful house in Southampton and spent a bundle renovating. Two years later, it was ready. The moviemaker walked the beach, gazed at the stars, fell asleep to the sound of waves hitting the shore. The next day, he went back to Manhattan and never returned. "Wasn’t for me," he said in his recent autobiography, "Apropos of Nothing."

Before long, Allen sold the place.

This is the kind of extravagance only rich people can manage, but you get the point. What’s around the corner most times is another corner. You build the dream house in the Hamptons but miss the old neighborhood. Something to consider.

Sure, everybody is crazy-restless because of the virus. Seems like forever since you could plan a trip and pack a bag without a world of worry.

But what do you think — maybe we should relax?

For me, wouldn’t be difficult.

I come from the perspective of a kid whose idea of adventure was to hope Mom could find a quarter in her purse for the Saturday double feature at Loew’s Alpine in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. Lash LaRue and Hopalong Cassidy would be galloping through cattle country and mountain ravines. I came back to our little apartment thinking I’d seen the world.

Since then, things haven’t changed much. Sheltering in place — hey, that’s been my instinct all along.

If I knew how to cross-stitch, I’d be working on one of those wall hangings that announces "Home Sweet Home."

Others may be ready to escape, but, for now, I’m OK staying put.

Sure, go ahead, take a kayak to Quincy or Nyack. Ride a rocket 60 miles into space.

You can’t get away from it all, not really.

As every astronaut knows, laws of certainty prevail. What goes up, must come down.