March 2010
I was thinking today, about some of the solo road trips of my life, and laughing about my subconscious efforts to be a nomad. The cross-country Christmas trips with my family, growing up in the 70's (really, the best decade EVER to be a teenager). Surely all that sleeping-in-the-back-seat-with-two-brothers must have wired my brain noodles to think it was normal. How about the road trip from Austin to Amarillo, to visit Gwen Felton, who I adored, and who suggested marriage, and I bolted. Even then, I lagged......and wandered around West Texas in my 1973 Top Banana Yellow Dodge Challenger. I didn't know what I was looking for. But I wanted Gwen. And I ran instead. Or the "move" to Boston, when I got accepted into Berklee School of Music. I didn't relocate to Boston, but I tried, and the 37-hour road trip - each direction - was priceless. The many trips back-and-forth from Oklahoma City to Los Angeles, trying to figure out who I was supposed to be. The road-part is always more interesting than the destination. Is it just me? A few years ago, while living in Virginia, I got involved in competitive racewalking, and would drive up to Washington, D.C. once a month and be at the track by daylight. I loved the short drive and sleeping in the rest stops and in the school parking lots. In 2005, I drove from Waynesboro, Virginia to the Baltimore Airport to fly to Oklahoma City for a reunion. Over the past fifteen years I have become increasingly horrified of plane travel, to the point where it is completely debilitating, mentally and physically. That night in Baltimore, after driving four hours from home, I freaked out, and couldn't get on the plane. I was newly married, and couldn't even go back home to Michelle. I just drove around Virginia for three days, sleeping in my Explorer. It took me a week to get my heartrate back to normal. Some of my friends in OKC were furious with me for not making the trip. They didn't care about what I was going through; they were just furious. Screw them. And of course, the month I lived in my SUV when I first moved to Maine in 2006. With Monk. Which meant having a litter box in the SUV. (Monk is toilet-trained, but obviously, we had to resort to a nasty ol' box during this incarceration) The month in the SUV got to be a bit much, and I did start flipping a little. But I also had a new house purchase, a house on the market, and no full-time job. And it rained nonstop every single day. Maine rainfall records were set that month. It would be hard to consider that SUV experience a barometer for living out of a 15x7 step van. wanderlust (n.) - a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about * * * Looks like I spoke too soon about the furnace test. It's a Suburban NT-20SE, and is rated at 18,000 BTU.  Sure, it started up beautifully in the mechanic's parking lot, second-try. But after twenty Saturday attempts on my own, and a distress call to Lee Family RV Services, let's face it - this circuit board is not reliable. "Typical," they tell me. "Could work next time, could go out any time." And it's fifteen years old, on a New England work truck. (New England = heavily used/rusted) My options? Take the unit out of the truck and bring it in for diagnostic/service ($150 for a circuit board + labor) or leave it in the truck and make Lee Family pull it out and pay even more. The screws holding it to the floor are immovable - I want to meet the guy that sunk them - and I'll be gol-darned if I'm going to pay somebody to rip something out of my floor when I have a couple days off to do it myself. Also.....a brand new furnace - identical model from LDV, who does the Snap-On conversions - is $345. Do you see where I'm going with this? So, I whipped out the American Express and ordered me one. Yeah, nobody likes to spend money on car parts, but how nice to be able to say the furnace is brand new, and I will always be warm? No-brainer. And since LDV was offering a 10% discount on first orders, I bought a simple cloth driver's seat to replace the aged vinyl one, plus a manual vent crank for the ceiling fan. After spending most of the day trying to get the furnace detached from the truck, the idea of spending $345 plus shipping was somewhat justified, if not welcome. I realize I want this thing to work flawlessly, whether I'm in Maine or the Needles, freakin'-California desert. * * * I stapled down the pink insulation board - the next step in my flooring project. I need to get a couple more sheets to finish off what the free stuff didn't reach. I started to unroll the Reflectix stuff, to get a feel for what happens next. It didn't seem like the project I wanted to start today, so I just hung a variety of upholstery fabric on the walls to get rid of that ugly Snap-On Tools pegboard. Might be a little too tent-city-dorm-roomish, but it's not permanent......just wanted to get my brain focused on seeing something else besides pegboard walls. Maybe a great idea will spawn from this.  * * * I scored quite a bit of astroturf on craigslist today. For free, of course. This is exactly what I wanted to do in the front part of the cab, where the driver's seat is, and where you walk in. Seems like easy to clean, easy to replace......muddy shoes, sandy feet......hose it down and I'm done. I received enough of it that I may try out the other idea I had: glue it to the roof outside. It just seems kind of fun to do that, and wouldn't interfere with the whole "rooter truck" image. Who's to say you won't find me picnicing on the roof on a nice Colorado-Spring day? I'm googling for a reason not to do it - like would it hold a lot of extra water? - but I doubt there's any reason not to. In fact, people have been known to cover their entire cars in astroturf, so it's not like I'm the biggest nut out there. (photo found online at gearfuse.com)  I can only dream to do as detailed of a job as this guy. I love this car! In a completely separate incident, I also scored some carpet padding - 16'x6' - enough to cover the entire interior floor . Sweet. I'm getting a lot of free stuff, which makes me feel a little easier about buying a $350 furnace. With any luck I'll get the floor built in the next few weeks, get the padding stapled down, and spend some time working on the actual room layout. I am beginning to have misgivings about purchasing a molded plastic shower stall, and idea I've had for a couple weeks. Why not just get a child's wading pool and some shower curtains? I'm afraid the constant bouncing would soon crack the $300 shower (and this truck is one bouncing machine for sure!) - this is no place to worry about having a nice looking shower. Got to remember to stick with function first. Scrapping the preformed shower stall idea for now. I have had some other matters to attend to (like listing and cataloguing the pieces to a steel building I'm selling), so I haven't installed the furnace yet. But I did get the ceiling vent crank fixed, so I can open and shut that little hatch and bring fresh air into my world. Nice, since the replacement pieces only cost about four bucks.  I also took the seat out completely. I have a new seat to put in, but first I want to do a little work on the driver's window. It won't come down. I took the pegboard off, and managed to remove all but one of the old screws holding in the aluminum wall piece. I sprayed as much WD-40 as I could, hoping it would free up the gears and rollers and other elusive mechanics of the window regulator, but to no avail. I cannot figure out what is making this thing stick. For now, in no rush, I'll just keep fooling with it and see if an answer appears.  * * * Revisiting the financial planning for just a second. First, you need to know I'm a spreadsheet junkie. I love making spreadsheets and formulas and watching progress, whether it's saving money for property taxes or building net worth. When I bought a riding lawnmower back in Virginia, I liked keeping track of the costs, and "How much does each mow cost?" and "What is this running me per day?" I know, it's a bit much, and you can't bring it up in a conversation with a pretty girl. But I like that kind of stuff. My big Roll-O-Rooter spreadsheet is also designed to answer multiple questions including, "What would it take if it all went down right now?" This is why I preach about knowing where your Zero is. You've got to know where you stand, and where you are committed, like it or not. I can tell you my house last appraised for $285,000, assessed at $305,000, and I have asked myself the question, "What is the 'Dream Sale Price?' (DSP)" You know, what would it take to pay off all the debts, the mortgage, and have enough money in the bank to go five years on the road - until I'm 55, and can tap into the 401k? This is an important number for me, because it's sort of a light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel number and a reality-check number combined. The Dream Sale Price is well over the house value right now - somewhere in the mid-$320's. But that's the reality. I can't sell the house for $325,000, so I work work work until the Dream Sale Price drops to something more obtainable. I'll note the progress as I move through this diary, but today my life is sold out for a couple more years. That ain't too bad. As debts are reduced and home equity builds, the number will drop accordingly. Let's not forget, for every month I'm stuck here working, that's a month I don't have to save for on the road. That's another $600 I don't need in the bank. (just guessing at $20/day x 30 days) And of course, if I bring my DSP low enough, and the house sells for more, I'll just be smelling that much prettier, and sitting on a nice wad o' cash. But don't call and make me an offer just yet. April 2010 Furnace Replacement & Wiring Driver's Seat Replacement Buying Property In Duncan, Ponca City and Guthrie, Oklahoma |