When I was a kid, we took summer vacations to South Dakota a lot because that is where my dad grew up and that was an opportunity to visit his family since we lived so far away in Texas. I have a lot of fond memories of those trips but one of my favorite memories is playing the license plate game with my brothers. For hours and hours we would stare out the window at cars passing by waiting to see what state they were from so we could color it in on our U.S. map. When we stopped to eat along the way, my brothers and I would run through the parking lot looking at all the tags. If someone new pulled up while we were eating one of us would usually say we needed to go to the restroom and instead would run outside to get a peek at what corner of the US that car was from.
My mom and dad would get aggravated at us at times because we weren’t interested in seeing the beautiful scenery off to the side of the road as they pointed it out but instead were focused on the passing cars. I remember once arriving at Mt. Rushmore and getting out of the car more excited about the 100’s of cars in the parking lot than the magnificent monument we were about to see. Course, our yearly trips always included a trek to Mt. Rushmore and so after a while it became less intriguing to us kids. My brother once remarked that he had seen Mt. Rushmore so many times he could tell you how many cracks were in Abe Lincoln’s face. LOL
I am re-living that fun in a sense every time I walk Quincy through the RV park. And though I don’t have a US Map and crayons at home or with me to color in the states, I can’t wait to see where the new RV or Travel bus that has pulled in is from. This RV park is a cross section of the country and I never fail to have the urge to go up and knock on the door and ask what their story is. Of course I don’t. I save that for when I meet up with fellow RV parkers in the Laundry room or when they are out walking their dog and our paths cross. Some of the spots are more permanent, people like Joe and I who are just enjoying the RV life in one place. Other spots may have as many as 3-4 change outs in a week as people pull in for the night, or a couple of days.
My neighbors on one side are from Texas and on the other side North Carolina. I purposefully try to catch the North Carolina neighbors outside just to hear their accent. They are here in Oklahoma for the next 3 years working for an oil company. The Texas neighbor is here working for an oil company as well, hoping to retire soon and return to Texas. His wife comes up every other weekend or so to visit as she still works in Texas. In my “row” alone there are RV’s from Ohio, Kansas, Louisiana and Colorado. Why someone from Colorado would want to travel outside that state baffles me. LOL The spot on the end is pretty accessible and is rented out a lot short term. When Hurricane Isaac was approaching the US the spot was occupied by a New Orleans family and their 3 children in a 5th wheel. They had lost everything in Katrina and weren’t taking any chances this time. The little girl was about 8 and I talked to her one day while on my walk with Quincy. She told me that she had 6 dogs at home and that she was very worried about the hurricane but that they were big dogs and her dad wouldn’t let them come with them.
And as silly as it seems, when an RV leaves I feel a sense of sadness and envy at the same time. Especially if it is one of the RV’ers that I have spoken to on my treks through the park with Quincy. Envy that they are in a place in their lives where they aren’t tied down by that thing called “income” and are free to pick up and go from place to place and experience different sights and people constantly. I think that someday that is what Joe and I will be doing.
There’s a sense of adventure in my life now when everything I own is in a movable home. And though that pesky thing called “needing money to live on” is a barrier at this point, we hope someday that we are able to sustain a wanderlust lifestyle and see the world…well at least the United States.
And it occurred tome that I have been given a gift, a golden opportunity that a lot of people don’t have. I can choose what my next job will be (well, at least I can choose what the next job I seek will be). I can be whatever I want to be. I’ve discovered that though there is nobleness in working in Hospice and healthcare it is also a very emotionally draining field to be in and I don’t think I want to go back to that. I love making people laugh, but given the opportunity to do comedy full time I don’t think I’d find it enjoyable anymore. Especially if my life (or paycheck) depended on it. Sales is definitely not in my scope of desire. Never has been. Should probably re-think that Marketing degree. LOL My dad used to have to buy my campfire girl candy and all my school sales stuff. Other than going door to door when I was a little girl with Joni selling homemade potholders for a dime or a quarter, I have avoided sales most of my life like the plague.
What I really want to do is be an RV park manager. That would be so awesome. I would be able to combine my accounting and property management skills with my love to talk to people skills and spin those into my writing skills as I told the stories of the assortment of people that come in and go out of my corner of the world on a daily basis. I have visions of comedy nights at the RV park, and pot luck dinners, and bridge clubs and knitting circles. LOL Maybe as I’ve gotten older and because of the “forced” sabbatical I have taken from the corporate world, I have come to realize that sometimes the simplest things are what give me pleasure. Meeting a new person on my daily walks, chatting with the mailman as he puts the mail into hundreds of boxes , chatting with the other tenants patiently waiting for their mail (well except for the looney lady last month that tried to run over the Postman cause she didn’t want to wait)…..
And someday we hope to have an RV park of our own. Our mini trips are more than just a get away. We are scoping out places that we might want to build our own park someday when we retire. There’s a lot to do and experience between now and then. But that’s the path we are on. The road less traveled.
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