Going UP

The other day we discovered one of those weird oddities that you see on television sometimes. If you remember last year when we were in Oregon we visited an area believed to contain vortexes. Strange things happened while we were there that we still can't explain. So, when we heard about this one and it was only about 45 minutes from where we were, we just had to go. The story behind this location in the heart of Florida goes something like this. Years ago when the Indians inhabited many areas of Florida an Indian tribe found this great location to set up camp. It was located next to this fresh water lake that was stocked with all types of fish. Setting up camp on the hill side looking over the lake the tribe was happy with their new location. Months went by until one day a huge alligator took up residence in the very same lake. Soon, one at a time, villagers would disappear. They discovered that this alligator was coming into the camp at night and taking a victim. The chief, upon hearing of this, decided that it was time to confront this alligator. He took the blessings of the witch doctors and set off to find this alligator. After a few weeks he finally spotted this beast dragging another victim into the lake. The story goes that a huge battle ensued that took over a month. Every day the villagers would look for the chief until finally one day he emerged from the lake victorious. He had slain the great alligator. What they realized later was that during the battle the chief and alligator had formed a huge depression next to the lake that eventually filled with water. Years went by and the chief died of old age and was buried next to this smaller lake that he had formed. The legend says that the chief is still protecting this area and his power can still be felt.
Fast forward...today if you arrive next to this smaller lake and stop your car in a certain spot, your vehicle will mysteriously began to move on its own, up hill.

We stopped our car on the designated spot, put it in neutral and sure enough the car began to roll backwards up this small hill. I don't know how to explain this but we did this several times all with the same baffling results.

The chiefs powers were felt that day and I don't know how it is possible. Yet another mystery that we have been witness to without any logical explanation.

Paint a New Picture.

We have been traveling for a little over a year, a year and 4 months to be exact, and the one thing that has been a constant throughout our travels are dogs. That's right, dogs. Doesn't matter in what part of the country you are in you will find dogs traveling in motor homes and trailers. At first we thought that it was only the really small ones but we soon realized that people like to travel with huge four legged animals that almost look like horses. Now don't get me wrong. I do like dogs but I have to admit the first time I meet a dog we are both sizing each other up. We stare each other down and both sniff the air as if we could sense the fear omitting from the other. All the wrong things to do, I know, but I had a really bad experience when I was growing up and it has always stuck with me. A German Shepard got loose from the neighbors across the street. There I was playing with my hot wheels in the dirt when I heard this animal coming towards me. All I could do was throw my precious cars in an attempt to slow this four legged mouth full of teeth now closing on me. I screamed and ran faster than I ever had. Closing the glass storm door behind me in time to see this hairy animal launch himself against it. Thud, plop and piddle were the only sounds I heard as the dog hit the door with a thud, fell to the stoop with a plop and piddle was the sound as I wet the foyer floor. Not a proud moment but one that has stuck with me.

So now you know why I am always apprehensive of meeting a new dog. To be honest the little ones scare me more. They tend to bare more teeth than the bigger ones.

Dogs are supposed to be our companions. They are supposed to make our lives much easier. Why then does it seem that we humans are the ones doing all the work and these pampered dogs just sit around licking themselves all day. In the cave man days, dogs were by their masters side when they would go hunting. The dogs would actually do the hunting while the caveman would just collect the booty. Dogs are the ones that should pick up after us. Once, I wanted to get a dog and my wife tried to talk we out of it because it just didn't fit our lifestyle. She convinced me to dog-sit my sisters 125lb bull dog. This thing snored, farted a deadly death cloud and slobbered everywhere. The part that totally convinced me that I never wanted a dog was my first walk with him. It was a cold morning and the grass was wet from the evenings dew. A light layer of fog hugged the ground as the sun started to heat up the morning air. The walk started of nicely as we both enjoyed the crisp morning air. Then without warning he stopped and started to sniff around. Next he got into the position that he was ready to drop a load. With his hind legs shaking he strained to push it out. Finally there it was. The dog turned and inspected it with a sniff and then looked at me as if to say he approved. I knew that at this point I had to do something but I found myself unprepared mentally. To actually see it really scared me. As I leaned over and proceeded to pick up this hot steamy pile of waste and processed dog food he just sat there and watched me. As the hot slurry oozed between my fingers I quickly tried to end this assault on my senses and hurriedly picked the area clean. Folding the plastic bag over itself I tied it up and thought I was done. Now we had to walk the many blocks back home while I still carried this 3 pound bag of still hot doggy play doe. What's wrong with this picture? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Shouldn't the dog be there for us? The picture below is the one we should have in our heads.

That experience convinced me that dogs are fun as long as you don't walk them and they don't bite you. If only they would tend to me and let me be the true master. If only I could erase my childhood memories. Maybe paint a new picture where I took that dog that wanted to eat me and instead make him part of my playing experience. Maybe something like this...

Maybe I'll never understand why people like traveling with their pets but I am sure I'll continue to see them in all sizes, colors and shapes while we travel around this country.

Full Moon!

I have been putting my thoughts together ever since my good friend told me that he finally got engaged and asked if I would be part of the wedding. It has been a couple of months now and I think I have put together enough words of wisdom to give him but I thought that maybe I should share them with you and get your ideas on it also. I expect plenty of comments and your thoughts as well.
Lets go back to the very beginning and analyze what is marriage and why it came about. We know that Adam and Eve were the first couple but do we know if there was a wedding? I don't think there was because who would they have invited? The animals? Sure, God would have presided over the ceremony but was there a best man? And, where did that role finally come in? Don't worry because these past few months have kept me busy with answers to these questions and more.
Yes, Adam and Eve were considered Husband and Wife but there wasn't any wedding ceremony that took place. Instead they went right into the reception and partook of all the wonderful fruits in the Garden. OK, so Eve got carried away and took the wrong apple. Is she to blame for the downfall of man? That's better left for another blog. Right now lets concentrate on Weddings.
So we know that it started from the very beginning this thing we call getting married. The first mention of it in history, that I can remember, is the wedding ceremony that ran out of wine. The story goes that it was a huge wedding ceremony and the guests were enjoying themselves and partying with their togas swaying to the music. They were drinking wine like a siamese kitten downing milk for the first time. Soon the wine reserves were dry and the party goers started getting mad. Not to worry because one of their guest was able to make more and the party went on. The important part of this story is that even back in those days people got hammered at weddings. They drank the place dry and had to "make" more. So now you don't have to feel bad because of that one time you got wasted at your friends wedding. It happens all the time.
Now the big question is why get married? Why not just "shack up" if you will. A wise man once said to me "Why buy the cow if you get the milk for free?" Wow! Makes you think a little doesn't it? The answer is quite simple really. The reason we get married is so that we can share our days on this rock with someone and, more importantly, you can always blame the other person whenever something goes wrong. They are usually right there when poop hits the fan. You can slowly turn to them and blame them. Convenience, you see?
Now, in the old days the brides family had to pay a dowry to the grooms parents. It usually consisted of goats or cows. I never did discover how the price was set. Was it based on looks or production? Now a days we just make the bride pay for the whole darn thing . After all she is the star of the evening and the groom is just there as a supporting actor along with his groomsmen. That leads us into the title of Best Man. This all came about when the term "Shotgun Wedding" was popular. They would get the best marksman to make sure that the groom wouldn't disappear before the I doe's. It eventually became "Best Man" because he was the best man for that particular job. Why do you think he holds the ring during the ceremony still today? If you leave it to the groom he would probably lose it on purpose. Can't get married it there isn't a ring. Thus the Best Man holds it now.
The Honeymoon came about from an interesting beginning as well. It usually only lasted about 10 minutes before the groom would appear smoking a cigarette and sporting a smile. The term Honeymoon wasn't always used. It had many names in the beginning, like: First Quickie, Titty Titty Bang Bang, Romper Room, Making Whoopee, Taking a peek behind the curtains, Ringin' the Cowbell, Stemming the rose, Role in the Hay and the most popular, Hanky Panky which was an actual couple that had 23 kids. The term Honeymoon referred to the period of time right after marriage when love is sweet and full like the moon. It didn't become associated with romantic "vacations" until the 18th century. Then, Jerry Springer discovered it and put it on his show.
Once the dust settles the couple have to learn to live with each other. They discover that there are so many little tendencies that their partner have that just makes them crazy. Sometimes you just want to rip your eyes out so you don't have to see them. It could be something simple like not wiping the knife clean of peanut butter before you put it in the sink to get cleaned. Or maybe not drying around the sink after you finish using it instead leaving it looking like a flock of ducks have just left. You learn to pick your battles because you quickly learn that if you were to speak up for every little thing it would just be one big "discussion" all the time and we all know how much fun that can be. Anyways, it always ends up being the guys fault somehow.
Marriage is something special and when you look at these couples that have been married for 50 years you wonder what is their secret. I guess the answer has always been right in front of us and put to music and poem. The answer my friends is that Love is blind. Sometimes you have to pretend that you are blind to keep the peace. Sometimes you have to be blind to what the other person has done.
Enjoy your wedding and honeymoon my friend and lets hope the wine doesn't run out and that the moon will always stay full over your house.

(Your thoughts and comments are welcome at this time.)

The Untold

There isn't one thing in life that doesn't get worn or never has to get maintained and replaced. I think it has all been designed to fail at some point in order to keep commerce alive and thriving. If you think about it everything has a shelf live or a life expectancy label on it. Even the bare essentials and basic ingredients in life, such as water, don't last forever. The obvious ones are, of course, the human body. We all know that it fails. Sometimes in a predictable manner but other times it takes everyone by surprise. Houses are notorious for always having something to repair or replace. So it shouldn't be any different than our home on wheels. For some reason when something breaks down on your car or motor home, in our case, you begin to have that tight feeling in your lower extremities. You are bracing for how many digits will appear on the bill and how long it will take. Everything has a cost and it seems that when you purchase an expensive home on wheels those costs are just as high to maintain and replace.
We find ourselves sitting in the back parking lot of a Cumins Service Center. Nothing like waking up in the morning and taking that first deep breath to awaken the senses and be greeted by the smell of grease and diesel fumes. You look out the window and see the back of a huge warehouse filled with stadium lighting with the bright white light spilling out the windows at all hours of the day. Soon the orchestra begins to warm up and within a half hour the sounds of air ratchets whizzing, metal hitting metal, engines running, and members of the orchestra shouting to each other to be heard above the chaos fills the air. The sight of these men and women moving these huge trucks and motor homes around the yard, almost in a choreographed fashion, seems dizzying at times. You're expecting the huge crash at any minute but thankfully it never happens. Here we sit as we wait for the estimates to be tallied up and parts to be ordered. Crossing our fingers in hopes of not breaking the bank and getting out of this environment before the smells become impregnated into our rig.
In our first evening in the lot, after the workers left for the evening to get reinvigorated for another day of making noise, we had the chance to meet other RV'ers that have chosen to spend their Florida time in the back lot as well. Some of the horror stories we heard sent chills up and down our spines. Stories of how they were on the highway cruising along and all of a sudden lose all power without warning. Then, spend an entire week of camping in the back lot while their rig is worked on everyday just to hear the technicians tell them that they still don't know what the problem is can make one a little upset.
We were promised that our work would be done tomorrow so one can only hope it turns out to be true. Regular routine maintenance and replace the Fuel Injector Solenoid is all that is on our docket. I wish our fellow campers a speedy recovery.
Just another part of owning a motor home that no one really talks about. Instead, one usually has images of an RV parked along a sandy beach with shadows of a palm tree blanketing the rig. Maybe an image of a RV surfing along the black ribbon of a scenic highway while rolling green hills try and swallow it up. No, no one talks about the nights spent in back lots across America, waiting for your number to be called and hoping the fumes don't kill you before the digits on the bottom of the bill does. Maintenance and repair has a price to pay and it isn't just with the money in your pockets. You pay a toll with your mind, sanity and patience. Just remember the next time you find yourself in a position like this that you are doing this to lessen the time and money you will spend down the road.
At least that's what they sold us on.

Pounding the Pavement...again

It’s been awhile since I last posted anything but it hasn’t been from lack of activities. It is more from the lack of that precious thing that we all wish we had more of and the one thing you can’t buy…time. As I have hinted in previous blogs, we are going to start working. So, let me back up and bring you up to speed on what has happened in the last three weeks. Reta and I left Marathon and drove about 4 hours north to a little city called Lake Placid. No not the one in New York. This one is on the northwest corner of Lake Okeechobee here in Florida. It was here that we went for our 3-day training with our new boss. The three days flew by, as we had to learn the pricing structure, paper work and proper procedures. Now at this point you might be wondering what it is we are actually doing! We are working for a company based out of Fort Lauderdale, Florida. As you might guess it is in the printing industry. Sorry but it’s in my blood and there is no getting away from it. We travel around the country going to different campgrounds, marinas, fairgrounds and executive airports. The company prints site maps for these facilities. Inside of the site maps are the local businesses that the guests might find useful to use and go to during their stay. Our job is to sell the spaces to these local businesses. It requires a lot of cold calling and a lot of knocking on doors but the pay off is well worth it. Aside from staying at the campground for free while we work the area we are paid on a commission basis. If you put in the hours you could walk away with a nice check at the end.
Once we finished our training an opportunity came up for us to work our first job. It was only a couple of hours up the road and we decided to jump in and start right away. We find ourselves here in Blue Spring State Park. It’s about an hour north of Orlando. The park is beautiful and is home to manatees this time of year.
I have really been enjoying going out every morning and working. I feel that this is pretty stress free. No one to look over your shoulder. No reports to write up. No voicemails left at all hours of the day inquiring about my sales. I get to go out and meet people. For those that know me you know how difficult that can be for me.
I am still trying to figure out the best work schedule. I found out today that Monday’s are the worst day to try and find people, especially in the restaurant business.
We should finish up here at Blue Spring State Park by the end of this week. Don’t know where the next stop is but I can only hope it is somewhere warm.

Salty Dog

The day started off like most here in the Florida Keys. I stepped outside the motor home and inhaled deeply to awaken the senses. A light breeze carries a hint of salt as it filters through your nose. The perfect shade of blue is splashed across the dome above with not a smudge of white clouds. High above the frigate birds are soaring in the winds with their split tails extended looking like a serpent's tongue feeling the winds.

After a rigorous bike ride that takes us on a 24 mile round trip, the muscles are screaming to be left alone. With every step the legs get tighter and heavier making it feel like you are walking through thick Mississippi mud in the spring. What better than to head for the beach and waste the afternoon away by just lying on the white sandy beach and soaking in the sun. We were joined by our friends Janis and Jerry. Once we arrived at Sombrero Beach we set up our camp which consisted of four lounge chairs, an umbrella, cooler, books and a paddle ball game. One glance at the bunch of us, a few minutes later, it looked like four pieces of wonder bread all buttered up getting toasted as we lay on our racks for the suns toasting. With my skin starting to get hot from the rays I decided to jump into the water and cool off. As I dipped my foot into the clear liquid lapping the shore it sent a cold chill through my body indicating that my toe thermometer said it is cold. The only way to get into a body of water like this is to just jump right in. This statement would soon be true for someone else. If only he didn't listen to that advice.

As the water hit my chest it felt like a sumo wrestler had sat on it as the air was pushed out of my lungs with the cold. Swimming around to try and get warm my aching muscles just cried out in desperation to end the assault on them. Determined to get warm again I exited the water and challenged Reta to a game of Paddle Ball. Its a simple game that we picked up at some beach bonanza store and have enjoyed playing it whenever we are on a beach. It consists of, for those of you that don't know, two wooden paddles about the size of a frying pan and a small blue ball. The object is to paddle the ball back and forth to try and keep it from hitting the ground. Easier said than done as the wind had kicked up and pushed the little ball around. After 10 minutes of chasing the blue sphere my legs had given up with the pleading for me to stop so they fought back the only way they knew how. Cramps. As I lumbered back to my toasting rack I handed Jerry the paddle to continue the pounding of this innocent blue ball.


Now, Jerry has always prided himself for being an athlete and quickly picked up the game. Janis would look up occasionally from her book to watch Reta and Jerry chase this blue orb. The rhythmic tic tic tic tic of the ball bouncing from one person to another was momentarily interrupted as a gust of wind pushed the ball a little closer to the water. I opened my eyes in time to see the scene unfold in front of me like a slow motion scene from The Matrix. There was Jerry, all 6 foot 5, with his eyes focused on the ball as it drifted slightly to his right, taking giant strides to intercept the ball before it hit the ground. Like a professional outfielder in baseball he had his paddle extended and eyes on the prize. He didn't have the luxury that the baseball player has with a warning track. Instead there was a little mound of sea grass that was strung out along the entire shoreline. Like a scuba diver out of water trying to still walk with his flippers on, Jerry's size 14 foot caught the ridge of the sea grass mound. As his body tried to react and move his legs faster to catch his falling torso he instinctively lowered himself as if trying to lower his center of gravity. Now quickly approaching the cold blue water, his gaze quickly turned to this clear blue liquid. With his arms out stretched and hands splayed open, like a giant sea plane with its pontoons lightly skimming the water for landing, he hit the water. Soon the law of physics played out and his hands broke the surface. At one last attempt to save himself and his pride he tucked his head and with a splash like a brown pelican hitting the water he disappeared. After what seemed an eternity but was really only a nanosecond Jerry popped his head out of the water. With a quick shake of the head reminiscent of a white haired boarder collie, he shouted out..."I'm OKAY". Reta being mortified by the entire episode was on him like a refugee on a bowl of white rice. Helping him to his feet and showering him with "I'm sorry" and "Are you all right". There stood Jerry like a giant salty dog on the beach. His red shirt now clinging to his frame and speckled with sand. His cargo shorts now dripping and hanging from his waist like it was on a clothes line. After the shock had subsided Jerry remembered that his pockets were still full of everyday life. Car keys, wallet, change and cell phone. He didn't have any reason to take them out when he started playing because he didn't expect to go for a swim. As these items were tossed my way to begin the process of drying out I had to contain myself as to not start laughing uncontrollably at the events that had just happened. Jerry insisted on continuing the game but one could see that he silently scolded himself for allowing himself to perform such an acrobatic demonstration of tumbling. Worst, I think, was that I was witness to it all and had the best seat in the house, front row and center. Later Janis and I would take assault on the blue ball as Jerry stood watch with his massive arms spread out like a Cormorant Duck trying to dry off and soak in the heating rays of the sun. You might be wondering how Jerry's possessions fared with their brief soaking in the salt water. Well Verizon, I don't think you can hear me now. Last I checked Verizon hasn't started coming out with underwater phones but when they do I have the perfect commercial for them. As for Jerry? He's fine. True athlete. Didn't get hurt, well maybe just his pride. After a few drinks in the evening it all became more fodder as the laughter increased with each scene dissected and retold. Thanks Jerry for a memorable image and yet another great story to add to our collection.

All in the Numbers

Over the past year we have been all across this mound of dirt called USA and have seen and visited so many incredible places. Places where we had only dreamed of seeing one day. Places that we would see in movies or on TV and dream of being there one day. I guess from everything we discovered the one thing that really stands out for me the most is the people we have met along the way. Now granted that the majority have been a little older than us. But its really just all in the numbers. The fact that they were probably dancing to Elvis at their Prom shouldn't matter. The fact that when men wore shorts when playing basketball and they were so short that you could almost see their family tree shouldn't matter. So, who cares if big hair was in when they were running around in their black shoes with white socks. The fact of the matter is that these people take us in and treat us like part of their families. They have great stories that sometimes leave you wondering about the past and entertain you with funny ones that have you laughing so hard that wish you were old enough to get away with wearing Depends undergarments. We enjoy going out to dinners or just hanging around the motor home while drinking a few cold ones with them. Age is really just a number so why should it matter if one is 40 or 70? I guess what I overlooked is that numbers do really count. After all, 68 sounds younger than 70, doesn't it? One is always wanting to be younger. Getting haircuts with fancy names like "Cesear" or just riding on a motorcycle to feel the skin get tight across your face. Everyone wants to be young. If because they look it or more importantly they feel it. If someone were to say that they are old than maybe it would slow them down and just give them another excuse for not getting off their backside and doing something. Numbers are important. They are a proud statement of how long you have been challenged with everyday issues. It represents the years that you have made a difference in someones life either through direct contact or indirect. The number we call age is two digits of accumulated years. Age is measured the same no matter what color your skin or what language you speak or for that matter if you walk on two legs or four.


At some point in life, I guess, one becomes proud of the fact that they are old. Its like looking at a vintage car and appreciating how it looks and that it still runs great. Sure the style is different than today's cars but it has its very own character and air of nostalgia.

When I sit on the pier and gaze out over the calm blue waters in the Keys these thoughts have been bouncing around my head. Your mind sort of starts running on idle and these little ideas start forming. I guess the seed was planted when we met another couple here in the campground that are our age. Their story is very similar to ours. No kids, sell the house and travel across the country. Their thoughts mirrored ours in thinking "What is the point of working 10 hours a day and not being able to enjoy life. We only get to suck air and pump blood for so long on this rock."
It doesn't matter what age you are because sometimes you just want to be silly.

I can only wish that when they get to driving around this great country of ours that they to will see the beauty. The people that make up this country are really the national treasure. The word "Age" will only really come up when you try and get into a campground that is 55 and older. Other than that, the numbers that represent age will only be thought of as another mile marker post on the side of the road. One can only hope that when I get to a young 68 that I will still have some hair to show for it and be full of life and energy. Still able to make people laugh and feel appreciated. Still be able to share my experiences and advice to make that journey a little less bumpy.

Age is really just all in the numbers.