Bigger stuff is bigger problems (or - How I came to the PUC, PT II)

Our life’s album grows heavier with each snapshot that emerges from a unique combination of lenses and filters. If you witness fights, shootings and ATF raids at your favorite bar, perhaps you’ll go elsewhere. Or, maybe you’ll arm yourself with a .44 magnum and continue to hang out in the place.

My own lenses and filters have been showing me that the American snapshot of “bigger is better” may be an optical illusion.

I bought my first house in 1977 for $12,500. It was pretty basic-- five-and-a-half rooms, 1 bath, no basement, shaky garage. But it was a dry, warm home that should have met my needs. But, as loyal adherents to American Values, we were forever climbing the property ladder (and other silly ladders.) A few years ago I thought I hit the jackpot when I found a town home billed as MAINTENANCE FREE for what I considered a “reasonable price.”

“Maintenance Free” in the homeowner market (vs the condo market) is real-estate-speak meaning “someone else will cut your lawn and move the snow from your sidewalk if “the group” can find someone affordable who feels like showing up when the work needs doing.” Oh, Boy, was I looking forward to no more mowing or shoveling! The almighty “Homeowners’ Association” could worry about that. Now, I are the Association and I handle the funds, administer the lawn care contract and perform the snow removal duties myself for all 14 units in the group. You might imagine how underwhelmed I am with this picture of the “bigger” life.

That snapshot, along with other fuzzy results, drove my handler and me to seriously consider a life of full-time RVing. For those outside the RV universe, what that lifestyle entails is unloading most possessions and living and traveling full time in a home selected from amongst a vast array of “recreational vehicles” on the market today. Hundreds of thousands of people, it seems, have chosen this lifestyle, and it had strong appeal to us.

We have owned one form or another of RV for many years. Each one, of course, was larger than the last. We had never really, actually, researched any of our purchases; we just snapped up what we liked and could afford. The results have been, as you might imagine, something less than fully satisfactory (although each rig, in its own way, has carried us through many happy days and nights of so-called “camping.”)

So, after much thought, we put our house and our then-current RV on the market and started to actually research what we would purchase as a suitable “full-time” RV. We informed family and friends of what we were doing, held a garage sale, made lists of which of our dear possessions would go to which family members and generally spent several months preparing and planning for a life on the road.

Man makes plans and God laughs.

Our RV sold, our house did not. We had decided to sell about the same day that the world of real estate was beginning a downward spiral. After six months of lookee-loos traipsing through our home and the loss of one or two sales through various screw-ups, we took the house off the market and begun, again, to compose our next frame. Out of all this turmoil, one clear picture emerged: we had to spend more time traveling (kids and grandkids halfway across the country, life wasting away, etc.) and we absolutely wanted to do this via a reliable and reasonable RV. The next snapshot was going to have to be a work of art or our little album would (not to add too much flare) be destined for the flea market, not the auction house.

The PUC is only a hockey stick and ice chip away-- keep reading.