May 2011
May is here, and all signs of snow have passed. My first official act was selling an old basketball hoop for $20 and cleaning my extra stove and fridge to prepare for sale. I spent most of yesterday messing around the interior of the truck, cutting more floor pieces and taking a little nap with Monk. He wanted out, but at least he didn't hide under the bunkbeds this time. He jumped up to nap with me, then back down to snoop around, then back up to nap...always keeping his eyes on the door. He didn't freak out as much, and seemed to understand he would be safe on the bed with me. I also finally assembled and mounted all parts of my "hippie-gypsy-pioneer-camper-Home-Depot toilet bucket" for life on the road, when I am not in the desert or woods, or near a hotel, restaurant, mall, gas station, rest stop, casino, or Walmart. Yep, there are more public places out there to do your business than you may have realized. There are gyms, thrift stores, grocery stores, hardware stores, bars, parks, churches, office buildings, and construction sites, and I intend to take full advantage of them all. Nevertheless, a wanderer like myself must be self-sufficient in all things. After much research I have chosen the classic, bright orange Home Depot bucket, with a trash bag liner partially filled with shaved cedar gerbil bedding. Throw in a dollop or two of cat litter, perhaps a pinch of lime and a dash of bleach, and this is the current toilet of choice. No water to slosh around, and should be very effective in securing all odors. Okay, I know some of my classier readers are making scrunchy-faces right now, but we all poop in a bucket attached to a seat, so give me a break. Nothing's different on that level - my toilet seat feels like yours. "Yeah, but we don't carry it around with us afterwards." No, you don't. Unless you've ever traveled in an RV or train or plane or boat. Or used a porta-potty, God forbid. So get over it. As I've said before, people throw their cat litter out in trash bags every day, and nobody cringes. And that's without the cedar chips. And what exactly do you think went on inside the covered wagons not so long ago, as they criss-crossed the great ruts and rocks and potholes of an unsettled, unpaved US of A? Just think of me as a pioneer. And a pioneer's gotta do what a pioneer's gotta do.  I have started becoming very aware of my need for open space in the truck - to sit, lie, read, stretch, roll around, whatever - and as I put in the front floor area, I have determined this will be my open space. As you can see, it only takes about half of the 5x8 rug, and I will do my best to keep this area free of clutter. You are welcome to start a betting pool on when I will fail, and fill this space up with crap, but for now that's my goal. The two square metal tubes shown in the front are my plan for mounting the passenger's seat. I have the original driver's seat (replaced shortly after buying the truck), and I'll like to find some way to attach it, so Monk can have a secure front seat (or anybody willing & able to make a trip). I could also attach a floor-to-ceiling pegboard here - a makeshift bulkhead - a good idea to help with the whole rooter-truck illusion when I am parked overnight. Of course if all this seat-manipulating gets too crazy or expensive, I'll be better off just buying a regular jump seat for $200. Those tubes were about $50, and then I need to buy parts to attach the seat, and then the seatbelts are another $50. The music equipment rack is on the left, the bunkbeds on the right.  * * * I finished reading "Blue Highways" by William Least Heat Moon, a book that was recommended to me by a member at the YMCA while his girlfriend was running late one Saturday. I guess I let him in on my adventure, so he told me about the book. Man, what a great book. It's embarassing to sit here and hack out a few occasional details of my plans after reading something as well-written as Blue Highways. If you are a fellow wanderer and have not yet read it, go now and get a copy. Amazon, Ebay, your library...you have no excuse. I sent a copy to my mom for Mother's Day. I think she understands what is gnawing inside me, but this book will be a connection. I'll forever say, "I wish I had written that." Following suit, I have begun "Travels With Charley" by John Steinbeck, also recommended by anybody who heard what I was up to. And I suppose after that, I'll go digging for something Jack London-ish, who was Steinbeck's hero. Hey, I'm the guy who has a hard time staying awake when he reads, remember? But what I've found is when I stay late at work, and wrap up my business for the day, I go to a nice place in my head by taking out a book and walking laps around the cubicles. Nobody but me and a book and some legitimate exercise where I won't get hit by a truck while I'm reading. I guess I could bring a book out to the high school track and do laps there on weekends as well. But I'm still the same guy. If I try to read without the walking part - snooze alert! - and I'm down for the count. * * * Here's a bit of info from the Department of the Obvious: If you want to get ahead, you'll have to take every opportunity. This applies to making money, folks. I'm having a weird week because, unbelievably, I can't find anybody to do my hotel photo route while I take a day of vacation. I know clearing $36 cash for walking into 9 hotels is not a lot of money, but it's easy money! Am I the only one out there who thinks $36 is worth having? And I've got 3 days to give this month - that's $108 for about 4-5 hours of doing nothing. Not to knock my friends and acquaintances - they have their lives and families and their full-time jobs - but if somebody asked me to be their sub for this photo route, I'd jump all over it (like I did when I took the job). That's like me calling you and saying, "I can't collect my $36 today, will you please take it?" I have seen this similar attitude in many forms over the past few years. Trust me, I'm no title-obsessed climber, but it seems nobody is willing to do the small work. Nobody is willing to turn in a bag of cans for $2.50, or move a sofa for $20. Everybody wants the big payoff. These days if you try to give away half a sandwich, people will say, "No thanks, I think I'll just wait for a whole sandwich." People like my housemate, Jose, who says he wants a house. Really? Then work for a house. One nickel at a time if that's what it takes. But he doesn't want that. He wants a house. I've approached people with part-time jobs and people with no jobs at all, and every one of them has turned down this sub position. Why on earth would you do that??? It's almost free money! Is five hours of goofing off really too much work for $108? I suppose I am alone in my way of thinking. You know, living the life you want isn't free, and chasing a dream usually isn't free either. But it seems people would rather be oppressed than fulfilled. People lately seem to have portfolios full of excuses before they ever attempt the task. And I am a lazy person, so I am doubly astounded. Maybe this is why I have the jobs I have, and the house I have, and why I am clearing my debt at the rate of $1500/month, which increases my Net Worth at the rate of $2-3,000/month. I ain't rich, and I can't do the impossible, folks. And when I get out on the road in a couple years, I'll be the guy schlepping a couple boxes in Duluth, or digging three holes for a landscaper in Peoria. I'll get paid a couple bucks because nobody else will do it, and they'll ask me to come back tomorrow and do it again. And that, my friends, is how you chase your dream. You don't pray for it to fall in your lap; you pray for strength and wisdom to develop and then follow a plan. You don't channel it, like some great Secret that will transform you; you visualize your goal, then work it. (yes, work) That brings me to the following peeve: I come from a religious background, and I have the utmost respect for people who have faith and all that. Faith and hope and love and prayer - all good things. But I have seen just about enough of the hardline Christian people living their lives in the shadow of this Magic 8 Ball they call "God's Will." They sit on their sofas and excuse themselves from all responsibility with, "If it's God's Will, we will be able to keep the nice china." Umm...maybe God's Will is that you get off your hindquarters, do some pet-sitting, and pay off that china! You have a responsibility in the deal. I am almost certain God has been watching at many a yard sale and saying, "Damn! I wanted them to keep that china!" (that's not in the Bible; I made that up) As my old Shoe-Dog sales manager Buddy used to say, "It's out there." It's out there to be had, my friends. So, get up and get with it. Or...sit back and watch. Whatever. I'll put on a nice show for you, and work my tail off, and you can mope about how guys like me have all the luck. * * * After that heavy paragraph above, this seemed like a good place to put something lovely to redirect my focus. And yowsa, what redirection.  Okay guys - just shut up a minute while I make my point. It is no secret I prefer Scarlett as the innocent strawberry blonde from the film Lost In Translation.  And again, in the movie A Love Song For Bobby Long. (my favorite expression of hers)  But I have to admit she does okay as the full blonde,
and I
probably
would not, as my old roommate Jimmy used to say, "kick her out of bed
for eatin' crackers."In fact, my fascination for this woman cannot be explained away on sex appeal. This is no crush. I know her from somewhere, and that's what pulls me in. I've had conversations with her. We talked all night. We threw rocks from a bridge. We sat back-to-back on a park bench, and her hair whipped around my face. It's uncanny what I sense in Scarlett's gaze as I scroll through photo after photo in my Google search. Is she trying to tell me to have faith and cling to her wordless expressions as if my life - our lives - depended on it? That our time will come - just wait? Harumph. It is more likely what I see in this beauty is a girl from Stuarts Draft, Virginia, who also speaks with her eyes, deep and calm...private lakes known only to me. 
Lips I have never touched, which upon every viewing, arouse
a familiar hunger as if I already know well the taste, the plump,
the thrill.The thrill, indeed. What thrill should I find in watching from afar? Harumph again, I say. I'm afraid the odds of me spending a moment with either woman is about the same; they are equally untouchable. Neither is real. I have invented them in my desperate, lonely imagination, and the better days are those spent away from either. A forced solitude. Peace by subtraction. And maybe this is the true measure of an actress - to seduce her audience in such a comfortable way that things do not appear dreamlike and untouchable, but as reality. As for me? I'm a mere mortal, and I watch her movie flicker before me, and I feel her hair whip again, and I feel her breath again. Yes, somewhere, we have touched. I cannot resist the seduction or the comfort. It is maddening, and apart from her obvious beauty, I cannot find the words to explain my fascination. For either Scarlett or the Virginian.  * * * Here is a photo I took at a reunion in Austin, Texas of our church teen group from the 70's & 80's. There were probably 60 people there, but only a lucky few made this cut!  * * * I have scoured the internet over the last eighteen months, and read more about van conversions, fulltime rv-ing, boondocking and national parks than I ever thought possible. (Boondocking is camping in the wild, off the grid - pretty much what I will be doing when I'm not in someone's driveway) Since there is so much information available, and me with almost two years to wait, I just save the interesting links, knowing one day I will be looking for a free camping spot in central Idaho or a bluebonnet festival in Texas. "Good information retention is nowhere near as valuable as good book-marking." - Darren Stone, lazy person. Today I found this interesting blurb by Bob Difley at rvlife.com, and I feel compelled to throw it back out into the universe for anyone with similar interests: Finding boondocking campsites in our national forests is not as difficult as it may at first seem, though it will take you some time—but time spent wandering around in the woods is not all bad. If you didn’t already know, you can camp anywhere in the national forests unless expressly prohibited by signs or fencing. Outside of campgrounds, camping is free, but you must camp at least a mile from an established campground. Stop at the local ranger station or forest service office and ask the rangers about dispersed campsites. They can probably point out some of these areas on a map. They often have photocopies of rough maps of how to get there, but you will have to ask for them. Next step is to pick up a topo map of the area—about $8 and worth it since these maps show all the forest service dirt roads and elevation changes so you know what you are getting into. A good plan is to stay at an established forest service campground for the first night, then explore the next day by tow, toad, or bike (or your rig if you are not towing) in search of a boondocking campsite. When you find one and are sure your rig will fit, return and retrieve it and move into your new digs. * * * Unveiling of the logo.  Proposed concept via Photoshop.  * * * So, my third annual May trip to Niagara Falls was not productive. Maybe it's just because I'm so tired these days, but all I wanted to do was lie around with the air conditioner cranking in the hotel room. I walked a little, and watched a few movies, but I didn't do anything touristy, and I didn't refresh or re-energize anything. I know there's nothing wrong with lazing around on vacation, but something kept nagging at me the whole time, and I felt anxious,and ultimately I wished I was closer to home. If Monk had been with me, I would have been fine. I hate leaving him for three or four days, and that has only been an issue very recently. I feel an urgency to be home for him, but there's no basis for those feelings. He's not sickly. It's just me who's sickly without him. This is Memorial Weekend, and Saturday is my last official YMCA day. I'll get home Saturday night, and have two more days off! I have some truck projects, and it would be nice to tackle them. I'd also like to scrape off a little exterior house paint and begin repainting the Southern side that has toasted, buckled, and flaked. But I know my limitations and I know I have to assign myself very specific, very tiny projects. I have a tendency to overwhelm myself with too many things and then nothing gets done. So I'll assign only a small area of the house and move as snail-paced as possible. I ordered some cool brackets (gold color) for the previously installed e-track rails (silver color) in the front third of the truck 
 Again, the earlier photo, showing my existing e-track rails. There is a matching set on either side of the truck. The truck came with some e-track straps, which would be great for strapping a piano against the wall, but I haven't found much need for them in my setting. These little brackets will allow me to secure vertical 2x4s (or horizontal), and once I have those in, I can do anything. If you have secure vertical 2x4s you might as well be framing a house. I think there will be some overhead Roll-O-Rooter shelving very soon. This could lead to some very cool storage ideas. Geesh......I may even go back to that idea of removing the bunk beds, and raise a loft-style bed instead. hmmmm.......... Idea and installation photos to come. * * * I am not ashamed to announce my Zero is now $268,376.54. That's what it would take to pay off everything. Add in the funds needed to hit the road, and my Dream Sale Price on the house (and contents) turns into $306,276.22. Closer. Every month, closer. June 2011 A Portable Generator? Duh. Lattice To The Rescue Overhead Shelves 18-Month Recap |