Occupation of Independence

Most people have experienced problems "just solving themselves" when they took their minds off the issue for awhile. This is probably due to surrendering some unreasonable demand, or abandoning an invalid assumption in the way that they posed the problem.

I thought "one armed bandits" were slot machines. Yes, I've rejoined that elite group of people known as "motorists." My goodness there is a lot to do to restore to life an older van that has been quiescent for almost three years, outside, and exposed to the "Four Gentle Seasons" of this area. It couldn't be put off for long: I had to drive up to a gasoline pump and rejoin American culture. For a few seconds I just stared at the pump and thought "Do I really want to do this?" Finally, resigned to shame and defeat, I had to ask, "Let's see here, what do I do first? How does this work again?"

Who was it that said that a cynic is nothing but an idealist who has been disappointed once too often? Perhaps it's time to admit that I was a romanticist and idealist in wanting to live permanently in an old mining town, and live car-free. I certainly made it work for about three years, and must make some effort to see it as a partial success from the big picture perspective.

More times than not, I like challenging weather, and look down on the softies who complain about weather. It's funny how objective-discomfort can be experienced as either a stimulating challenge or as debilitating drudgery. The local visitor's center uses the 'Four Gentle Seasons' slogan to sell the Little Pueblo to visitors and retirees. It's partly true, but not this year. We are half way through 2011 and haven't even experienced one gentle season yet: below zero weather in the winter, wildfires and high winds all spring, and now we're pushing triple digits. Growl. Maybe I'm just dumping on the Little Pueblo because I'm trying to psyche-up about leaving it.

I was enjoying my car-free lifestyle in an RV park in the Little Pueblo. It was a nice and roomy park with 50% overnighters and 50% monthlies. The monthlies used to be older RVers who had gotten off the road for one reason or another, or maybe a younger person who had a job in town. But lately we've been taken over by miners and construction crews. It's a noisy and rough crowd. I no longer like living here. And yesterday I had an encounter with one of the rowdies that made me think it's just plain dangerous to be here. A camper can't do anything about a degenerating camping experience. The campground is a business; he can only love it or leave it. That's why God put wheels under his house. An RVer certainly pays a price for becoming immobile: he can't just skedaddle anymore. It takes time and money to escape now. No wonder I used to be on the road most of the time! Even when you find a town that you could live in, there is no guarantee that the RV parks are

Either political party is playing a whole new game when its opponent actually learns from its mistakes and reforms itself.

Conspiracy theories have never interested me and I look down on those who are into them. So it's with some reluctance that I admit that there seems to be something fishy with the recent killing of Osama bin Laden and the recently announced (painfully gradual) draw-down of troops from Afghanistan.

It is going to get a lot harder to bicycle up to the Continental Divide from now on. For the last month I was so inflamed with fear about being chosen for that jury that anger alone seemed to get me up the hill: as I ranted away internally, the miles and altitude slipped by almost without notice.

Hooray! I escaped the clutches of the American Police State; I got out of jury duty.

After the threats and warnings that prospective jurors get about talking about the questions on the questionnaire, the next step is to drag the prisoners -- I mean 'citizens', patriots, lucky Americans -- halfway across the state, so that lawyers and judges can subject them to enhanced interrogation techniques. Try this one on: We welcome you as a Juror in the United States District Court for the District of [X]. The United States jury system is among the best in the world. Its success is due largely in part to willing participation of citizens such as yourself. "...due largely in part to..." Let's hope that the federal government presses a new prose stylist into their service.

Do you remember when Ronald Reagan said, "I wasn't born on the other side of the tracks, but I was close enough to hear the whistle?" In my mid 50s now, I feel the same way about geezerhood. The scariest thing should be impoverishment, increasing solitude, the loss of mental faculties, disease, pain, and finally death. But it isn't. The scariest thing is slowly turning into one of those old men who talks endlessly about themselves, usually about some dumb job they had way back when.