On New Year’s day Samantha, my mom and I, took an early morning stroll around the block. The sun had poked it’s way through the fog, dogs yapped their hellos and Samantha serenaded the few houses that still had their Christmas decorations up. When a middle-aged couple stepped out onto their porch for a quick peek Samantha scurried off, suddenly shy.
All seemed right with our little corner of the valley until my mom began a tirade about how ugly RV’s made the street look. I had to agree with that; thinking that it was too bad our new storage facility in town hadn’t thought of marking a few large spaces to harness these metal puppies.
My mom went on to say (doesn’t she always?) that you see many more of these parked on residential streets than you ever see in RV parks. A young couple of friends of mine bought one a few years back in the hopes of saving a lot of money on future family vacations. Last year they went to Hawaii. I wondered how it worked out.
The Claussens, recently retired seniors, just bought their RV too. They haven’t been seen from since. Oh, I take that back, I see them every three months for their oral hygiene appointments. Can’t have those seniors out there with periodontal disease. Not when they have finally found the time to go everywhere. Now that they’re retired, of course.
I have to admit that I’ve been tempted by the open road. Between Jack Burditt’s woe-be-gone tales and the to-die-for adventures of Thelma and Louise I’ve imagined that the right vehicle with Bushman built-ins beckons somewhere.
Let’s see…it would have to have two computers because we couldn’t survive without indulging our daily junkie habit of e-mails and Internet access. Second, it would have to have real newspaper delivery. I love the smell of newsprint in the morning. (Robert Duvall liked the smell of napalm in the morning in what movie?) Thirdly, but not finally, it would have to tote a trailer large enough to haul all of Samantha’s Barbie’s—a junkie in her own right. (We’re so proud.)
Being that these demands are somewhat unrealistic, (As unrealistic as thinking we have the time to tool around the US.) we either have to find jobs that offer sabbaticals or feign mental anguish for workmen’s comp to get us out of our existing careers.
But we just moved into a new house, Sam’s starting a new school, I haven’t sufficiently annoyed my new neighbors (unless of course they have RV’s hidden somewhere I have yet to discover.) and I still need to WORK to pay my mortgage. I guess…I’ll have to wait.
So the way I figure it the deal to be made is for me to get one of these when I’m sixty-five. By then I won’t be hampered down by work, a mortgage or school schedules. And, less we forget, I have to wait for technology to allow me to receive my full daily newspaper, floating in the satellite dish that will surely adorn my RV cruiser.
Can’t the rest of you wait a little longer too? Call my mom. I’m sure this is a sure-fire way to get rid of your RV payment and the Bushman’s can spend their next annual vacation with dear, old, ornery, complaining mom at the big wheel. Although this is the year we’re having her take us all to Hawaii.