Occupation of Independence

  Some people think I am being facetious with a title like that. They wonder, 'Since when do you need some tricks to enjoy looking at something that is breathtakingly beautiful?" But the person saying that is unlikely to be a long-term traveler. And what do they mean by "beautiful" anyway? They mean it's redder than usual. By that reasoning you could take a photo of a mediocre sunset, stick it into photo-editing software, and blast the shit out of it with fake redness. What good would that do for a long-termer? But we still want to enjoy a fine sunset. I have found something that helps me. There is something about listening to a song sung by Jimmy Buffet (album = Beach House on the Moon). I can't give you a link on You Tube but there is a version of it done by the song's writer. Sunset is an angel weeping Holding out a bloody sword No matter how I squint I cannot Make out what it's pointing toward. Sometimes you feel like you've lived too long Da

Recently I was praising visualization when reading fiction, but admitted it was pretty hard to have the same pleasure when reading non-fiction. There might be an exception to this. And it ties in to real things that are happening today. I am referring to the battle between the Eurasian land powers and the ocean-powers. Things looked bleak for Europe when the Ottoman Turks finally conquered Constantinople in the mid-1400s. What a piece of real estate that was! How was Europe going to trade with the East, with the Ottomans in the way? And then the Portuguese pulled off the greatest flanking movement in all history: they sailed around the southern tip of Africa and into the Indian Ocean. And there wasn't a damn thing the Ottomans or the Muslim world could do about it. The centuries of European ascendancy had begun. Portugal, then Spain, Holland, the Brits, and finally the Americans. But now that trend seems to have been stopped. Eurasia -- if its major powers can work together -- is v

There is little mystery about snowbirds being obsessed with finding warm temperatures to "camp" in, considering where they are coming from. But an obsession with "warm and sunny" can crowd out what is really important. For instance, 65 F is about as good as it gets. Not 75 F. When low temperatures are near freezing and highs are in the 60s, there are almost no flying insects. Why doesn't this get more glory? It deserves some.  In fact I would love it if weather channels created some numerical index for flying insects, so their "stay tuned for the upcoming weekend forecast" pitch could actually quote a number. By the time you get into the 70s, you will notice houseflies coming out of their dormancy. You might even start running into snakes, although that might need warmer ground temperatures. I have seen my first rattlesnake of the season in late February in Yuma.  In the 70s you must start taking precautions when you park your car with a dog inside. If

I had been warned in advance of how unpleasant it can be to go to a dog rescue organization. Foolishly or not, I went ahead with it and found one little dog that interested me. What a shock it was to get email from them, dismissing me as an unsuitable adopter of one of their highly valuable dogs (typically a pit-bull or chihuahua mix which usually comes -- at no extra charge -- with separation anxiety, a missing leg or eyeball, and uncertain bathroom habits). According to these experts I was unsuitable because I didn't have a fenced backyard of a certain size, and because I didn't reside in Arizona for six months per year. Now, it is probably true that people become more humble about themselves, over the years. But until that email I had persisted in the conceit that I was capable of raising happy dogs. An RVer's first dog, miserable as ever.  But I was wrong. What is my opinion compared to the experts, to The Science? They probably didn't think an RVer could ensure ade

Old machinery can certainly be charming, perhaps because you can see how it works just by looking at it. Locally there is an old drag-behind road grader. I was on a mountain bike at the time, so an irresistible thought popped up: what if Arizona passed a new law that required every motor-crazed yahoo (motosports, RZRs, etc.) to pull one of these graders behind their noisy obnoxious machine?! What a fantasy! At this time of year t he roads are so full of rubble or washboard that it is a real struggle on the bike. All I can do is look forward to my spring locations that feature miraculous soil and grasslands. But that's just silly, you say: it's idle fancy.  Well listen, I have a higher opinion of idle fancy than I used to. When I look at the world, I feel sour on a good day, angry on a bad day, and helpless on all days. So it is a sanity and survival tool to create mental playgrounds out of pleasant and harmless thoughts. Speaking of such, look at my camping-neighbor's rock