"Getting off the road" or "turning in the keys" have an ominous and depressing sound to a full time RVer, since it usually means that health problems and aging have finally gotten the upper hand. But let's say that it's not these typical issues. What else would make him get off the road?
Imagine rolling into town and going out to run some errand. Perhaps your propane tank needs to be refilled. You have a couple minutes to kill while the attendant does his work, so you ask where the best grocery store is. The directions are totally useless of course, which you knew would happen if you had thought of it in time. Next you look up at the sky and start to make small talk about the weather, which should be more his speed. Well yea, he says while straightening up and lifting his baseball cap to let his sunburned head cool off, but you know what they say about Mudburg's weather: iff'n you doan lok it, ya jes wait 10 minutes! After delivering the punchline, the local yokel starts violently slapping his side and hee-hawing like a braying mule.
Alternatively you could winter in Yuma, AZ. The quintessential Yuma experiences are to found at the laundromats, with dog-eat-dog competition for a machine. Imagine being in one of those gladiatorial arenas, late in the winter; you look out the window and dream about getting the hell out of that town. Another customer looks over at you and says, Soooooooooooo, where ya frum? Your face locks up into a painful grimace, and you fight against groaning audibly. Livingston Texas, you reply, hoping that will end the conversation. But your washing machine neighbor is looking bright-eyed: Livingston Texas, whah hell, ain tha sumpum! Three of mah nebbers at the RV raaanch is frum thar too.
But these are just anecdotes. There is something deeper in this whole issue. Although I avoid transient travelers at my present RV park, sometimes they have nice dogs that go for a romp with mine. So I can't help being aware that 99.9999% of the visitors, living their RV Dream, will drive 40--60 miles to the same two tourist attractions that our town is known for.
They're just nice, normal folks wanting typical amusement during a standard travel "adventure". Nobody ever thinks how obsolete it is to use a motor vehicle as an alternative to a television set or internet terminal. But if they ask about those two standard tourist attractions I groan (inaudibly). It has become odious for me to think that happiness should be chased by immediately reaching for the car keys and driving 100 miles away from wherever I happen to be. Why can't it just be where I am?
Imagine rolling into town and going out to run some errand. Perhaps your propane tank needs to be refilled. You have a couple minutes to kill while the attendant does his work, so you ask where the best grocery store is. The directions are totally useless of course, which you knew would happen if you had thought of it in time. Next you look up at the sky and start to make small talk about the weather, which should be more his speed. Well yea, he says while straightening up and lifting his baseball cap to let his sunburned head cool off, but you know what they say about Mudburg's weather: iff'n you doan lok it, ya jes wait 10 minutes! After delivering the punchline, the local yokel starts violently slapping his side and hee-hawing like a braying mule.
Alternatively you could winter in Yuma, AZ. The quintessential Yuma experiences are to found at the laundromats, with dog-eat-dog competition for a machine. Imagine being in one of those gladiatorial arenas, late in the winter; you look out the window and dream about getting the hell out of that town. Another customer looks over at you and says, Soooooooooooo, where ya frum? Your face locks up into a painful grimace, and you fight against groaning audibly. Livingston Texas, you reply, hoping that will end the conversation. But your washing machine neighbor is looking bright-eyed: Livingston Texas, whah hell, ain tha sumpum! Three of mah nebbers at the RV raaanch is frum thar too.
But these are just anecdotes. There is something deeper in this whole issue. Although I avoid transient travelers at my present RV park, sometimes they have nice dogs that go for a romp with mine. So I can't help being aware that 99.9999% of the visitors, living their RV Dream, will drive 40--60 miles to the same two tourist attractions that our town is known for.
They're just nice, normal folks wanting typical amusement during a standard travel "adventure". Nobody ever thinks how obsolete it is to use a motor vehicle as an alternative to a television set or internet terminal. But if they ask about those two standard tourist attractions I groan (inaudibly). It has become odious for me to think that happiness should be chased by immediately reaching for the car keys and driving 100 miles away from wherever I happen to be. Why can't it just be where I am?
Comments
Re:" It has become odious for me to think that happiness should be chased by immediately reaching for the car keys and driving 100 miles away from wherever I happen to be. Why can't it just be where I am?"
Why can't happiness be found in BOTH places; where you are, and someplace you haven't been?
Be careful, before your travel anorexia morphs into a full blown case of agoraphobia, and you're stuck in the camper.
"Travel anorexia" has advantages or the travel bulimia that you promote. (grin)
Seriously, wasn't Thoreau "traveling" when he wrote about his "Walking", one of his essays? I have four times his range because I have bicycles. Plus my town's altitude allows me to bike from high desert to ponderosa forests in just a few miles.