June 2011
Connie is welcome to ride along in the truck.  * * * "You will remain the same until the pain of remaining the same is greater than the pain of changing." - Author unknown, although I have seen it credited to everyone from Mary Kay to The Buddha * * * It's June, and Monk and I are now living in the truck. That is to say, when I come home I take him out of the house and bring him to the truck overnight. I set up a little catbox until I can get him trained to the camping toilet, and overall, it wasn't too bad. Night 1 was a little tough for him - up and down, bed to floor to bed, all night. He was good until about 1am, and then he wanted back in the house. Night 2 was much smoother, and he curled up with me or on me all night - I had my laptop, watched a couple shows on Hulu, and he was at peace until about 3am before he was through with it. I think the issue is his boredom and having nothing to do and no windows to look out. Poor guy. I guess we'll just keep up this routine until he decides to stay the night. I need to get all the tools out of the front window ledge so he can have his space, but I hesitate to turn the truck around in the driveway, facing out to the world, not the barn. That would provide better entertainment for Monk, but the large front windows would then be facing West all day, and taking in crazy heat, no matter how I covered them. It would also prohibit me from the restyling of the porch-tarp situation, something I am working out with with smaller tarps and better wind control. Now that I'm in the truck, I'm also getting a sense for where to mount the drop-down work/table areas for using things like piano keyboards or the flat screen computer monitor. It looks like I'm in for a repetitive lifestyle of keeping things in their boxes until I am ready to use them, and packing them up when I am done. No problem - once I hit the road, there's no hurry. When you remove Time from the equation, annoying things like repetition, back-tracking, and do-overs really won't seem so bad. * * * Sold the stove and fridge - the extra pair I brought up from Virginia five years ago - for $650. Sweet! I put it on Craigslist, knowing my price was right, and it was gone within two hours. Then the canoe went - $275. Then a camper-sized tv and cheap dvd player for $28, a couple CDs for $12 and a motorcycle manual for $7. Now, that's the way to open up a new month. I can't help but wonder if this money will go to replace a hippie-wagon transmission someday when I break down in Deer Lodge, Montana, or if I'll actually get to enjoy spending the money. Well, it's in the bank for now, and Fate will tell me later. It dawned on me today how very handy a small generator will actually be for me. I don't know why I have had such a mental block in considering this - I guess it comes from my upbringing. We were not a generator-family. To my knowledge, nobody in my lineage has ever owned, or even used, a portable generator. We don't have campers, or snow mobiles, or atv's. We don't go ice fishing and we aren't long-haul truckers. So what would I know? Well, I already learned (when I first bought the truck) that the diesel engine block warmer needs to draw somewhere between 1200-1500 watts for a continuous couple of hours - that's only in cold weather, of course. And I am already aware a bank of batteries is not going to do that. As I reported earlier in this journal, I just figured I'd have to stay away from cold climates (even though I sorta prefer a little cold). I'm eighteen months into this; why did I not consider a small generator? I think I told myself it would be an unnecessary hassle. What a dufus I can be. I only have to plug the truck into the generator - just like I plug it into my house current now - turn the block warmer on, and there you go. These things can run 6-10 hours on a single gallon of gas. What a dufus. This opens up the entire country to me, hot or cold. Anyway, here's what I'll be shopping for.  The little Honda EU2000i inverter generator is the hands-down favorite by every account I can find, due to it's extremely quiet disposition (under 60db - same as human speech), and it's light weight (around 46 lbs.) Guess I'll start earmarking $900 for one. Sure, I don't need it until I sell the house and unplug from the grid...but I'd like to get in as much experience as I can, and see how far into a Maine Winter I can take it. Besides, I know that once I decide on something, I'm not real good at waiting. * * * A blown JBL speaker sold on Ebay for $43, and the mini-fridge sold locally for $60. I'm glad to see the little uptick in sales lately, but I still walk through the house and barn and wonder a) why they don't look any emptier, and b) how will I get rid of it all? People ask me when I am planning on leaving, and my answer has developed into a hopeless sigh and, "As soon as everything is gone." That's almost true. I mentioned to somebody yesterday that if my house burned down tonight, I could actually be on the road in the morning. There's more truth than drama in that statement. But for now...please do not burn my house down. I finished reading "Travels With Charley: In Search Of America" by John Steinbeck. I much preferred "Blue Highways." Steinbeck's travel - as are most people's - was almost too rigid because of the innate time-line/schedule/route/destination/purpose. It was like a vacation: I have 7 days to do all this crap and get back home. Even from the early chapters, Steinbeck was reflecting on his "search" and if his book would offer answers to his questions. Lighten up, dude. William Least Heat Moon (Blue Highways) was much more vague about why and where he was driving, and his descriptive style was beautiful, never overly ornate or repetitive. You knew he was doing a lap of the United States, but he wasn't famous like Steinbeck, was newly divorced, and newly unemployed. So his lap seemed to be a little more carefree and cathartic. Nevertheless, there is a lot of difference between traveling for a year and knowing where Home is, and traveling in your home. If I was going to make plan worthy of a novel it would be to travel only one mile a day. Portland, Maine to Los Angeles, California. 2,600+ miles. Ten years. That would be a monumental effort, but that doesn't sound much like living. I'd miss Montana and Alabama completely. Next up - I have begun "The Lost Continent: Travels In Small-Town America" by Bill Bryson. * * * I made some pretty good progress in the truck this weekend. I mounted a nice wire shelf in the bunkbed which will hold the laptop and computer monitor when I am stopped and powered up and want to enjoy a bigger screen. I have a lot of wire shelving sitting around which I brought up from Virginia. Wire shelving and lattice panels - I've got to do as much as I can with this stuff. Always have to be thinking light - keep the weight down! I also mounted a couple 2x4's across the back of truck - all the way by the back door and spanning the entire width. A few horizontal lattice panels laid across and now I have a 2'x7' storage shelf above my head. That's a lot of new storage, but still plenty of room to maneuver around and access the rear door. I may try to bring this shelf over and connect to the top bunkbed creating further storage. This would also be a good way to secure the bunkbeds in place during the bouncing of the road. And by God, there will be bouncing. In my newfound quest to use up all my lattice panels, I also figured out that lattice and mosquito screen make an awesome back door for the truck when parked. This came about partly as I was looking for solutions to keep Monk amused, as well as to keep the air fresh and circulating. I have to admit, I rather like it. Upper shelf facing rear door. Bunk beds on the left.  Rear view.  Rolling laptop/bedside table sold at $40 and a couple cool plastic barstools sold at $20. Still no dent to the naked eye. More DVDs on ebay, and more CDs on Craigslist. This weekend wasn't very productive. It didn't rain, and I wasn't drunk. I just sorta wandered around in some kind of funky limbo, like some guy invited to the party, but can't find anybody he knows. I think all I did was hang a tarp over the rear door, allowing me to keep the door open and still hide from the sun. * * * Next up is the hanging of the overhead shelf that will run across the front of the truck, similar to what I did across the back. I have a wild idea that I want to be able to hang my heavy bag from this, so I can carry my upper body workout with me. Sure, I can walk all day long for exercise, play a little basketball, but what about my arms? So I am bolting the e-track rails into the front carpeted walls. The front third of the truck is the carpeted-wall section, and behind the carpet is 1" plywood. I didn't know this at first and began the mounting with 24 nylon winged anchor bolts which are designed for thin or hollow walls - the type of walls in the rear of the truck. Oh well, I guess I've created a monster on the passenger-side wall because those nylon inserts are there to stay. Jammed into the plywood. Hopefully I've only increased the strength.  I began this project with great overkill because not only do I want a heavy bag for punching, but I had this vision of also hanging a swinging chair (if I can get the whole thing high enough off the floor). I know, sounds crazy, but it's an idea, so I'm going to see where it takes me. Nothing wrong with having a porch swing inside your hippie wagon, right? And I've got one of those yard swings just taking up space in the barn. A brief setback as I adapt to the plywood wall, but I should have the swing in this weekend. * * * Okay, looked at the swing. Ugh. It is ginormous, and that's I word I've never used. It's a three-seater, and that's just too much. Too too much. I'm not even going to attempt to bring it in the truck. Maybe I can find a single-seater at Pier 1 or something. Swing idea on hold for now...but still building the shelf and support for the heavy bag. You know I have a hammock somewhere...wonder if I could turn that into a swinging canvas chair somehow... Sold my big drum set today. $525. Some kid got a good deal, and I am light one large piece of furniture now. It feels kinda strange selling my drums, but I switched over to a more percussion-based setup awhile ago, so this is not world-changing stuff. It is, however, another glaring sign that things are a-changin' around here. I listed the set many many weeks ago, and have been slowly dropping the price. Just like I do with all my crap. The sale came just in time too, as last night I had a wild hair to add another $200 of J.P.Morgan stock as well as $200 of Paychex stock. I had a handful of Paychex shares leftover from my purchases twelve years ago, and the time seemed right to bump up. Stocks have been tanking lately, and I'm taking this as a sign that Your Stocks Are On Sale! Buy low, sell high, right? Well, they've got nine years to flourish before I sell, so we'll see how my wild hair pays off. * * * I close out June 2011 with a whirlwind of mixed emotions. I'm eighteen months into this plan. In truth, I have unloaded a lot of personal stuff in eighteen months, so I should feel good about that. If I look around, I won't see pieces to a metal building taking up space in the yard. Or a pool table, a Toyota 4Runner, a canoe, a remote keyboard, a stove, a fridge, or a fairly large drumset. And there's a lot of insignificant crap I won't see either. But things are disappearing, and that's the idea. I have a very cool truck to make my dream happen, and an even cooler logo to paint on the side. I own nine properties outside of Maine. I've paid down $18,000 of debt, put $4700 into a bucket for future living expenses, $1700 into a bucket for future property taxes, and $6200 into a gasoline bucket. I've beefed up a few stock holdings, and even managed a couple hundred dollars in savings bonds. The equity in my home has increased eighteen months' worth - that might be about twelve grand right there. I've been able to quit my part-time job at the YMCA. I've transferred thousands of movies and music to portable hard drives. And for all practical purposes, I've already moved into the truck - my home is now parked in my driveway. When I look at things in that light, I see a guy on a path. It would appear I am working hard and staying focused. But there is a cost and you can call it wear-and-tear. I wish I wasn't so lazy on my days off. I don't seem to have a pimple of energy any more, much less a fighting spirit. I haven't broken a sweat in a workout for at least a year. I am weakening and widening and grossly apathetic about my physical state. I have given up completely on True Love, and I suppose that'll make a feller weak and wide as much as anything. I work on the truck sporadically, and although there's no rush, I look lazy in the mirror. I know I should start on some exterior home painting and/or repairs. But I keep telling myself there's no sense in doing it now; wait until next Summer so it will still look new when I list the house. There is some good thinking in that, but not enough to rule out laziness. I thought I would be spending more time playing my bass by now. I thought I would be more inspired. I attribute all this to three things: a) ten years worth of getting my lights punched out by a handful of women who originally claimed to love me, b) working more than playing, c) my absolute obsession with getting rid of everything. In regards to (c), yeah, I know, I keep griping about how overwhelming it all is. But until you try it yourself, you have no idea. I want to be so bold and take that leap that I read about others doing - where you just get up one day and give it all away and throw the rest in the dumpster. That won't work for me just yet. Financial suicide. Still, I can do more than I'm doing now. Time to crank it up a notch. * * * My Zero is $266,122.45. My Dream Sale Price for all my possessions is $303,021.51. July 2011 Selling, Searching, Scorching, Shredding Buying Property In Big Spring, Texas Out With The Bunkbeds $22/Day |