An old RV buddy and I got together for a hike up Red Mountain, which overlooks Patagonia, AZ. He isn't an RVer anymore. Long-time RVers like me are used to seeing people drop out. Normally I can tell before they can. RVing is just a transitional state for most people.
He thought RVers were nice folks who sat around too much, and that the so-called RV Dream consisted mostly of dreaming of the next potluck. I don't know how he got that idea, but he did. Also he wasn't too handy with maintaining his motorhome and never made a serious hobby out of it.
He was diagnosed with the Thin Man syndrome, and it appears terminal. You know the type -- gnarly, wiry old guys who refuse to blimp out in middle age or old age, like a decent person should. If the world were fair there would be a support group for men like this. Women seem to be mercifully free of it.
He had another affliction; he was single. Boys will be boys and he hoped to meet a woman with a vestige of a feminine figure despite being in her sixties. (Is that really a realistic expectation?)
So he moved to Tucson, joined a large hiking club, and went on a couple hikes per week. Eventually he met such a woman and moved into a pile of sticks and bricks.
We used to have friendly arguments about the pro-s and con-s of RVing versus local-yokelism. He made his decision and happily it has worked out pretty well for him.
After a couple years of solitary boondocking and RV travel I wanted more companionship. So I rented by the month at RV parks in town, but not for the companionship at the RV park, obviously. Then I would bicycle with the local club, several times per week. It worked reasonably well.
How well does something have to work before we pronounce it a success? Samuel Johnson, one of the great quotables of history, once said something like, "As I get older, I am willing to call a man a good man on easier terms." I think that applies to situations as well as people.
But not too "easy." Eventually, impersonating a townie got to me. I was always doing things the rat-racer's way. Our values were completely different outside the sport of cycling. Actually I was more lonely in town than by myself, out in the desert or forest, bicycling with my dog. On top of that, camping in town was expensive and poor quality, especially for a dog owner.
Different value systems: it might be subtle but eventually it makes you want to secede from the tribe. I wearied of having my lifestyle dismissed with a smirk; I was their licensed lunatic, you know, who they just knew would get through this phase eventually and go back to living like a normal person. (Like them.) I never real told them my opinion of their lifestyle since "different" people are usually liked and tolerated only to the extent that they are jolly and harmless. Perhaps the townies were perceptive enough to see a barely-controlled hostility in my attitude. After a few years of this schizophrenic existence I went back to solitary RV boondocking.
I'm glad that I get a chance to see my old buddy once per year when I'm in the Tucson area. It's too bad we don't overlap more, but at least things have worked out pretty well for both of us.
He thought RVers were nice folks who sat around too much, and that the so-called RV Dream consisted mostly of dreaming of the next potluck. I don't know how he got that idea, but he did. Also he wasn't too handy with maintaining his motorhome and never made a serious hobby out of it.
He was diagnosed with the Thin Man syndrome, and it appears terminal. You know the type -- gnarly, wiry old guys who refuse to blimp out in middle age or old age, like a decent person should. If the world were fair there would be a support group for men like this. Women seem to be mercifully free of it.
He had another affliction; he was single. Boys will be boys and he hoped to meet a woman with a vestige of a feminine figure despite being in her sixties. (Is that really a realistic expectation?)
So he moved to Tucson, joined a large hiking club, and went on a couple hikes per week. Eventually he met such a woman and moved into a pile of sticks and bricks.
We used to have friendly arguments about the pro-s and con-s of RVing versus local-yokelism. He made his decision and happily it has worked out pretty well for him.
After a couple years of solitary boondocking and RV travel I wanted more companionship. So I rented by the month at RV parks in town, but not for the companionship at the RV park, obviously. Then I would bicycle with the local club, several times per week. It worked reasonably well.
How well does something have to work before we pronounce it a success? Samuel Johnson, one of the great quotables of history, once said something like, "As I get older, I am willing to call a man a good man on easier terms." I think that applies to situations as well as people.
But not too "easy." Eventually, impersonating a townie got to me. I was always doing things the rat-racer's way. Our values were completely different outside the sport of cycling. Actually I was more lonely in town than by myself, out in the desert or forest, bicycling with my dog. On top of that, camping in town was expensive and poor quality, especially for a dog owner.
Different value systems: it might be subtle but eventually it makes you want to secede from the tribe. I wearied of having my lifestyle dismissed with a smirk; I was their licensed lunatic, you know, who they just knew would get through this phase eventually and go back to living like a normal person. (Like them.) I never real told them my opinion of their lifestyle since "different" people are usually liked and tolerated only to the extent that they are jolly and harmless. Perhaps the townies were perceptive enough to see a barely-controlled hostility in my attitude. After a few years of this schizophrenic existence I went back to solitary RV boondocking.
I'm glad that I get a chance to see my old buddy once per year when I'm in the Tucson area. It's too bad we don't overlap more, but at least things have worked out pretty well for both of us.
Comments
This surely rung true for me and turning inward to listen to one's true inner voice is the source of real happiness. From the time before we knew we were alive (approx age 3) we have already been programmed and our inner voice has already been trained to echo their voices. It takes a lot to undo this and it also takes courage to be truly different.
Many people are counterculture but they are all counterculture in the same way (like the hippies of the 60's.) Still conforming within their group. But to follow one's true inner voice means one ends up a one-of-a-kind person. And society will tend to see them as weird. And a bit suspicious as well.
I understand what you are talking about with trying to negotiate the human need for some sort of contact and exactly what form that will take without too much intrusion as the result. Seems like you have it right for yourself. I find that the best quality is obtained by infrequent meetings as the significant things come forth first and then the conversation naturally degenerates into trivia and silliness. There's no getting around it, as far as I'm concerned. I am a loner as well though I don't RV. I do tent-camp occasionally, just to keep the record straight.
Well, now I think I am about to ramble so that is my cue that I've already said what's most important.
Good luck with Kodger's Karavan this summer.
T
I don't camp alone by choice or because others will "intrude" on my holy solitude. I value independence, not solitude.
Solitude is forced on me by the fact that most RVers don't like the sort of camping I do. Most RVers are indoorsmen and suburban, culturally.
Thom, Am surprised that your SO can tolerate my "anti-woman" opinions. (grin)
Your shallowness is appalling, boonie.
Women aren't off the hook either. Equally their inability to age gracefully is just as much as a problem for them. Cosmetic surgery of all kinds, just to name one.
Now this isn't very nice but someone once said "the masses are asses" and one can't help but think of this every now and then as an explanation for such strange phenomena.
The argument is always made that these gimmicks make them FEEL BETTER about themselves, that they actually give one additional confidence. WHAT? No wonder our society lacks respect for the wisdom of the old. It got bought out.