Once again I am in Yuma, wondering if there is a business where I can put my brain into cold storage for the winter.
And why not, I ain't got no use for it, anyhow -- at least not for the next couple months. In fact the intellect is over-rated, as my winter lifestyle will prove. My enjoyment of life will be physiological and anthropological: I will be roadie-cycling with the single best cycling club in the Southwestern winter.
As you can tell, I just finished my first club ride, came home and took a navy-style shower, popped "The Big Country" into the DVD player, and took a deep sag in front of it. (Notice I did not say 'nap.')
There is a real satisfaction that comes from changing your lifestyle in the winter, rather than merely changing your geographical location. What is the marginal utility of one more location to an RVer after 50 locations, the rest of the year? [*]
But if he can spot some deficiency in his lifestyle the rest of the year, and if he can somehow come up with the complementary pro-s and con-s in the winter, well then, he has constructed the perfect 12 month lifestyle.
In my particular case, I experience more pretty scenery than a sensible human being would need. I know that Life's Little Adventures and Box Canyon Blog won't agree with me on this issue. Wonderful (and unique) people though they be, and as happy with their lifestyles as they are, they still suffer from a serious substance-abuse problem: pretty scenery is their heroin. (grin) Or it could be that they just don't invoke the concept of diminishing marginal utility as the Prime Directive of their blogs.
Thus in the winter I head to Yuma, one of the few places in Arizona that is visually uninteresting, if not positively ugly. Let my eyeballs and camera rest for a couple months.
The rest of the year I disperse camp, mountain bike, and walk arroyos with my dog, who is of course ridiculously happy about it. But unintentionally I live the life of recluse. I've tried various approaches to overcoming that; they were about 5--10% successful.
Perhaps I will never solve this "problem." So be it. Life is too short to worry about the same old issues year after year. Whatever disappointment I feel in this one department of life can be turned to advantage by showing up in Yuma and riding with the road cycling club. Talk about turning lemons into lemonade!
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[*] Isn't it strange how the prophets of the RV blogosphere, imbued with all their Higher Forms of Wisdom, can so easily see the folly of the conventional lifestyle with its insatiable demand for one more gadget or one more granite counter-top.
But they cannot see the pointlessness of one more location, after pushing their geographical "channel button" 100 times per year.
And why not, I ain't got no use for it, anyhow -- at least not for the next couple months. In fact the intellect is over-rated, as my winter lifestyle will prove. My enjoyment of life will be physiological and anthropological: I will be roadie-cycling with the single best cycling club in the Southwestern winter.
As you can tell, I just finished my first club ride, came home and took a navy-style shower, popped "The Big Country" into the DVD player, and took a deep sag in front of it. (Notice I did not say 'nap.')
There is a real satisfaction that comes from changing your lifestyle in the winter, rather than merely changing your geographical location. What is the marginal utility of one more location to an RVer after 50 locations, the rest of the year? [*]
But if he can spot some deficiency in his lifestyle the rest of the year, and if he can somehow come up with the complementary pro-s and con-s in the winter, well then, he has constructed the perfect 12 month lifestyle.
In my particular case, I experience more pretty scenery than a sensible human being would need. I know that Life's Little Adventures and Box Canyon Blog won't agree with me on this issue. Wonderful (and unique) people though they be, and as happy with their lifestyles as they are, they still suffer from a serious substance-abuse problem: pretty scenery is their heroin. (grin) Or it could be that they just don't invoke the concept of diminishing marginal utility as the Prime Directive of their blogs.
Thus in the winter I head to Yuma, one of the few places in Arizona that is visually uninteresting, if not positively ugly. Let my eyeballs and camera rest for a couple months.
The rest of the year I disperse camp, mountain bike, and walk arroyos with my dog, who is of course ridiculously happy about it. But unintentionally I live the life of recluse. I've tried various approaches to overcoming that; they were about 5--10% successful.
Perhaps I will never solve this "problem." So be it. Life is too short to worry about the same old issues year after year. Whatever disappointment I feel in this one department of life can be turned to advantage by showing up in Yuma and riding with the road cycling club. Talk about turning lemons into lemonade!
______________________________________
[*] Isn't it strange how the prophets of the RV blogosphere, imbued with all their Higher Forms of Wisdom, can so easily see the folly of the conventional lifestyle with its insatiable demand for one more gadget or one more granite counter-top.
But they cannot see the pointlessness of one more location, after pushing their geographical "channel button" 100 times per year.
Comments
Who doesn't enjoy beautiful scenery? Those who can afford it seek the beautiful places to live and play along the water and in the mountains. Surrounding yourself with beautiful scenery has a similar effect to listening to music. It moves the soul assuming we had one.
I have no idea what prompts your somewhat reclusive lifestyle but I can say this. Last year we had a great time cycling with you in Zion and unfortunately we didn't get to do that this year. But your refusal to hike in national parks because they don't allow dogs on trails is self limiting and seems pointless. Not all trails in national parks are filled with the much hated tourists. On most of our hikes this year we had the trails mostly to ourselves.
You need to come out and enjoy the fun and give in to your secret love of postcard scenery.
Jim
Unless, of course, you simply want advice on buying a vehicle or other such practical matter. That counts too, in its own way.
The other thing is how many activities are actually made enjoyable by other people being around? Most human interaction is built around food and small talk. Boring.
That is why I get such a kick out of being around fellow cyclists. Unlike donkey-like hiking, cycling with the gang is a primal anthropological satisfaction. It is like riding ponies across the steppes of Eurasia, at high speeds, rampaging, burning, and pillaging. That is exciting stuff.
They are all classified as addictions in my book. Chris made a good point about internet addictions as well as one more way to connect to people.
Solitude is about more than spending time alone. It is an internal process of self-analysis which, over time, develops into a sense of inner independence and responsibility and a wisdom which results in an ability to age gracefully in order to be deemed successful, one which realizes that the process of aging is giving up everything that Mother Nature gave so generously and now is taking back bit by bit. It is learning to detach from physical and external entertainments which come in many shapes and sizes. If you can't handle that, then you missed the boat.