Are We Too Easily Offended?

At home in Fort Worth...

The restrictions to Sandy's and my travel caused by upcoming surgeries give me time to ponder certain things, whatever good or ill that brings.  We have only three trips scheduled for Phannie through November--all of short distance and duration, so I will have plenty of time to fill blogging space with something other than my usual blather about our travels.  This 'something' will include, of necessity, a greater reliance upon philosophizing.  (Don't laugh; my philosophy is worth every nickel you pay for it.)


This has its risks, however, as philosophizing, by its nature, requires its practitioner to offer opinions, some of which may differ from those held by readers.  Mindful of the risks, I am very careful to avoid issues known to be polarizing, such as religion and politics, although I have strong views on both.


Why take any risk at all, one may ask.  Well, for the same reason a newspaper editorial column is more interesting to me than the stock price page.  As stated in a recent post about blogging, I find a writer's thoughts and impressions about a subject likely to be more captivating than the the subject itself.  As long as the opinions I express do not include negative personal comments, there shouldn't be any problem.  Or so I thought.


I recently learned that a respected blogger whom I follow (and who followed me) was offended by something I wrote in my post, "Getting on the Blogging Tips Bandwagon" and unsubscribed from my blog in a huff.  I was mystified as to what had set him off, but I later found out that he didn't like my opinion about the kinds of posts I find interesting.   Mind you, I carefully avoided mentioning any blog or author by name in my post, but he must have thought I was writing about him.  (I wasn't; his blog is very well done and one of my favorites, about which I've left only positive comments.)


Instead of leaving, I wish he had left a comment with a differing opinion as others, like Rick, occasionally do.  I covet these as an intellectual exchange in which I may learn something.  But just to high tail it because I expressed an opinion--I don't get it.



Please excuse the rant, but have we reached a point where we are too easily offended?  Perhaps we have, and I think it might be attributed to our national obsession with political correctness.  In many cases, it is modeled to us via television that disagreeing with someone is impermissible if that person is of a certain color, orientation, origin, politic, religion, etc., etc.  Must we now be careful with bloggers, too?  I guess my erstwhile blogger friend didn't zero in on the premise that my post was merely an 
O-P-I-N-I-O-N!  As far as I know, I'm still allowed to have one and to express it.


I certainly wish the offended blogger had hung around because I was proud to have him as a subscriber; I still read his posts and will continue to do so.  But then, I'm not easily offended.    

Miscellany

At home in Fort Worth

Sandy and I are more or less tethered to our home base for the next few months as we navigate our way through surgeries to replace some of our parts that have worn out.  It was just last week when brave Sandy had two procedures--a septoplasty and carpal tunnel surgery--done at the same time on the same operating table.  I certainly understand her desire to get both of these over with at once, but she looked pretty beaten up for a few days.  She is definitely a trooper!  


Next for her will be knee replacement surgery, to be done as soon as she has the use of her hand again.  This will be knee number two for her, and she's looking forward to getting relief from the pain.  Next will be a hip replacement for me, but not until Sandy is pretty well mended from the knee ordeal.  


Even with all of this piling up at once, we still consider ourselves blessed, as our medical issues have been relatively minor for a very long time. Many of our friends and acquaintances have suffered devastating illnesses and losses of family members to terrible diseases, so our current issues are almost unworthy of mention.  


However, that will not keep me from whining about not getting to scratch our traveling itch for a while.  Poor Phannie must think she has been abandoned.  I  am faithful to start her up, run through the gears and exercise  the generator every couple of weeks, but this is just teasing her, and I'm sure she resents it.

Sad Phannie

On a happier note, the DFW Metroplex is getting its first Trader Joe's store today, opening in Fort Worth.  We have never had an opportunity to visit one of these popular markets, and we're thinking about giving it a try this weekend, although with some trepidation due to the anticipated crowds.  I know that a number of you have had positive comments about Trader Joe's, and I do know that they offer some unique items.  Since the RV blog community is a very discerning bunch, I would be interested in some of your 'must-haves' from Trader Joe's.

New Trader Joe's in Fort Worth

Finally, I am including some helpful hint videos for your amusement and edification.  I'm sure these are making their way around the web, but I hadn't seen them before--pretty cool tricks, I thought:  1) closing a potato chip bag without a clip; 2) peeling a boiled egg; and 3) getting a cork out of a wine bottle.

Music for Geezers

At home in Fort Worth…

This post is a continuation of my earlier musings about becoming a Geezer.  For several days, I had a foggy mental outline of what this post has become—a diatribe about the bilious noise that passes for popular music these days.  Before I could write it, however, Al of the Bayfield Bunch unwittingly stole my thunder in one of his posts a few days ago.  The only difference was that his favorite music was popular a decade or two later than the point in the last century where I was left behind by songwriters and singers.  

In my mind, good music began about 1940 and was largely extinct after about 1970 with a few notable exceptions mostly associated with Broadway musicals.  I guess the hallmark of this 30-year period was that music actually had melody back then.  I won’t even attempt to name any of the hundreds of melodious songs from those years that are still universally recognized today along with the big bands who played them and the crooners who sang them.  But you know these instantly when you hear them, and you can hum their melodies if not sing their words.

I must admit to being utterly devoid of even the tiniest understanding of today’s music. I am mystified by rappers, and I have no idea of what constitutes funk, grunge, metal, heavy metal, punk pop or any of the other weird subgenres that float around out there like strange and annoying creatures from a parallel universe.

I don’t even recognize country music anymore.  A simple and understandable country song with fiddles, a steel guitar and a melody has given way to a rambling story-saga with perhaps a catchy line but no tune that anyone could hum.  Again, there are a few exceptions to this, but not many.

I guess the latest thing that set me off was the recent windup of the TV show, American Idol, a horrible misnomer for what proved to be a never-ending freak show of poorly-dressed youngsters bent on inflicting musical torture.  We have now reached a point, it seems, where judges appear to be impressed only to the degree that a performer’s voice can be pushed and strained to a point where it is no longer discernible as anything other than a primal scream.  Nothing seemed to matter in this show except whether the primal scream was sufficiently vein-bulging that it showed the proper apoplexy or ‘emotion’ of the singer.  I suppose that if the performer had actually suffered an aneurysm and died at that point, he or she would have been named the posthumous winner by acclamation. 

At the merciful end of the season, the winner was a pitiful rural lad whose voice had about a six-note range but who prevailed, presumably, because he was ‘different.’  God help us.

Fearing my curmudgeonly attitude would be dismissed as the predictable snarkiness of an old fuddy-duddy who is not growing old gracefully, I have engaged in no small degree of introspection as to why this causes me so much consternation.  Perhaps it is because I am a musician of sorts myself (piano), about whose capability kind things have been said, however misguided they may be. 

In this exercise of due diligence, I thought back to my own youth and my parents’ reaction to the music of my pubescent fifties and sixties.  Let’s see—no, their heads didn’t explode when rock and roll hit and Elvis discovered his hips.  My folks didn’t listen to pop music much back then, but they never gave me the impression they thought I was from another planet when I listened to it.  In fact, they even liked some of it.  Even “Purple People Eater” and “Splish Splash, I Was Taking A Bath” had a melody, for goodness’ sake!  I  

Therefore, I refuse to be pigeonholed as typical of the geezers of each fading generation who just don’t ‘get it’ when it comes to modern pop music. I think the music died a good while ago along with the culture, and I’m not sure it will ever come back.

It's Official: I'm a Geezer!

At home in Fort Worth


I  can distinctly remember how uncool I thought my parents were in my formative years--which, much to their dismay, lasted about three decades.


It was not out of necessity that my parents fed our family largely from dad's vegetable garden and the occasional catch of the day from his trips to the fishing holes. They did so because it was just the best food on earth. I am ashamed to confess that, in my adolescent fog, I lacked a proper appreciation for my dad's gardening and fishing skills and my mother's total mastery of the art of cooking the fresh food that was in such abundance then. To me, it was all so very, ah, rural.


I guess I fancied myself then as a dazzling urbanite--somewhat fanciful, it would seem, there in Nacogdoches, my east Texas home town of some 12,000 citizens. I tended to turn up my nose more often than not at my mother's smorgasbord of beans, greens, squash, okra and the like. How nice it would be, I thought, if we could just have the Wonder bread hyped on TV instead of the incessant parade of homemade cornbread, biscuits and rolls from mother's kitchen.  If only we could eat at restaurants, I thought.  What an ignoramus I was...and what I would give now for just one more of those meals!


Yes, my folks were hopelessly square geezers, I thought. They were so old school that they didn't have a computer or a credit card...or any debt, for that matter.  They occasionally watched TV, especially Lawrence Welk, but their favorite form of entertainment was something called "visiting."  This curious practice involved gathering with friends or relatives and doing nothing more than talking and storytelling for a few hours. Yes, I know, this custom has largely disappeared today, having been replaced with TV, Facebook, Twitter, text messaging and email, but I still miss those stories and being in awe of the storytellers. 


This provides a background for my assertion above that I have become a geezer, too. What, you ask, precipitated this catharsis?  Well, it was my recent visit to the dentist, of all things.


I had gone to the dentist to have a sensitive tooth checked out and afterward, when I stopped to pay the bill, I was greeted by a willowy young girl with brown hair who almost certainly had not yet seen her twentieth birthday. After smiling and officiously checking my account on her computer terminal, she said, "That'll be twenty-one dollars today, Mr. Mills."  (It was a co-pay; I have dental insurance, in case you're wondering.)  I opened my wallet and retrieved a twenty and a five, laying them on the granite counter in front of her.  At this point, she looked at the two bills, studying them momentarily, then looked up at me, bewildered, her eyebrows raised and her brown eyes now a good deal larger than before.  At one point, she looked over her shoulder at her comrades as if to say, "What do I do now?"


Since the appearance of the two bills on the counter had clearly flummoxed the young lady, I instinctively said, "I can give you a bank card if it'll make things easier for you."  Instantly, she broke into a big smile and eagerly pushed the two bills toward me. One swipe with my card, and I shuffled out to my car.  As I sat down in the driver's seat, pondering the young lady's recoil from my offer of cash, it hit me:  She had probably never done a cash transaction. Cash must be for geezers!  For perhaps the first time, I wondered why I had not just gone ahead and used my card in the first place; it would have been so very simple and easy.


For years, I have had a habit of carrying a few hundred dollars in my wallet because cash--until now--has just seemed a simpler way to pay for small purchases. However, I have observed that more and more people are paying with plastic and young folks, like my daughter, Mindy, use a bank card almost exclusively to pay for everything--even things costing less than a dollar!  I had also noticed the arrival of card swipe-thingies at the drive-in windows of fast food joints, but I considered it more of a curiosity than anything else. I couldn't imagine why anyone would use a credit card to pay for a hamburger!  We geezers are clearly the last to connect the dots, aren't we?  


For most of Mindy's life, I frequently asked how much cash she had, knowing that if she had any at all, she would probably have found it on the ground. Then I would surreptitiously put a few bills in her purse, because geezers--especially geezers who are fathers--just can't cope with the thought of anyone--especially their daughters--carrying little or no cash.  Now I find myself wondering why I was thinking that having cash was so important. 


As I pondered this, I remembered an article in the newspaper (the reading of which also probably qualifies me as a geezer) about Sweden's imminent changeover to become a cashless society.  When I arrived back at the office, I did a little research (with Google, what else?) and found that Sweden is getting rid of cash because only three percent of transactions there involve an exchange using cash; for them, maintaining a national currency is more trouble and expense than it is worth. The article went on to reveal that only seven percent of transactions in the U. S. are now made using cash!  Upon reading this, I'm sure I gasped audibly! When did this happen, and how did I not notice it, I asked myself. Was the descent into my currency-laden geezerhood as insidious as, say, bladder problems?  Maybe so; I didn't realize I had those, either, until trips to the bathroom became my most reliable and frequent source of exercise. 


Feeling suddenly old, I quickly took stock of all the modern gadgets I use--an iPhone, an iPad, an iMac, a GPS and wireless internet, among others--and I felt a little better. Surely geezers don't use those, right? Then, I began to worry that I still may be fighting a losing battle, because I always seem not to have the latest version of anything.  My iPhone doesn't have Siri, and I still have an iPad II, for goodness sake!  Does that make me a geezer?  I'm not sure but, as I write this, I'm becoming even less sure that I care.  


Since this paradigm shift, I've been having a little trouble with the weirdness that comes with my realization that carrying a bunch of cash is, well, frowned upon, I suppose. For example, when I retrieve cash from my wallet to pay for something, I am careful to hold my hand in such a way that the bills I have are not visible, for fear of my being ridiculed as being a member of the one-percent group or something else that's out of favor today. Before this latest enlightenment, I used to be careful with my wallet for fear of attracting criminals, but now I'm not even sure they want cash anymore. Pretty soon, I guess, using cash will be like offering a chicken or goat to pay for something. People will be amused, but then a call will be made, and some men will come and gently lead me away.


More thoughts on becoming a geezer in the next post.   

Getting on the Blogging Tips Bandwagon

At home in Fort Worth...

I have noticed several posts lately in which the writers give tips for good blogging.  Since that seems to be in vogue, I’m going to offer a few of my own.  I think I’ve learned a good deal about writing blogs from reading posts—both good and not so good—of many other bloggers.  Although I read posts on other subjects, RV blogs are the only ones I follow through Google Reader. 

The number one criterion for a blog to make my reading list is this:  It must tell a story.  And I don’t mean a travelogue—you know, one that contains a zillion photos of scenery and a narrative that could have been copied from Wikipedia.  Thanks, but I’ll just read Wikipedia, I think. What I want to read is about the writer’s feelings and sensations about his or her experience.  This is no different from what makes people want to read a good book—to be transported through the written word to live vicariously in the writer’s experience.   It doesn’t even require great writing artistry or a compelling subject.  What is happening is not as important as telling what you think or feel about what is happening.  If it makes you happy, tell how happy and why it makes you happy.  If it’s funny, exploit it for all it’s worth; readers love humor.

Besides the dreaded encyclopedia-style travelogue post mentioned above, there are others that drive me batty: 

1) The family gathering—innumerable photos of every relative breathing, from newborn to nearly departed, all of whom are known only to the blogger.

2) Basket weaving or beer bottle collections—a complete photo guide to performing some 19^th century craft, or endless posts about an obscure hobby that may have 37 adherents in the whole country. If you’re going to do a how-to series, that's fine, but realize this will be something most readers will zip on by. 

3) Wild animals, birds, pets and flowers—everybody loves them, but please…'less is more' applies here.  I just don’t need to see an elk from every conceivable camera angle.  If one feels compelled to include dozens of these photos, why not just put them in a library and provide a link for the three people who want to look at them?    

There are those folks—including me—who have said they publish a blog for their own record or just so the family can keep up with what they’re doing.  I think they (and I) are kidding ourselves!  If those were our only intentions, why would we be publishing it to the World Wide Web where a billion people can read it?  I think every blogger likes to be read; however, not all of them write about what someone may want to read.

Here are a few more tips that may be taken for whatever they’re worth:

• Try to be positive; there’s enough negative news already.  However, if something happens to you that others can learn from or avoid, don’t hesitate to tell about it.

• If something is just so crazy good that you know others will love it, go ahead and rave about it.  Just don’t get carried away; not all that much falls into the crazy good category.

• Avoid politics, but an occasional rant—about anything, so long as it isn't personal—can be entertaining.  Warn readers beforehand and apologize afterward. 

• Avoid preaching, but acknowledge God’s handiwork and blessings from time to time.

• Write from a humorous perspective and look for humor in all things, especially yourself.

• Tell readers about your health issues, but try not to dwell on them.

• If you leave a blog comment, make it a bouquet and never a brickbat.  There’s always something good to say about every post.

• Try to remember to include your location at the beginning of each post.  Most writers don't do this, and I forget sometimes.  But it surely takes the guesswork out of it for readers.

• After I write a post, I get up and walk away for a time; then I come back later and re-read it before publishing it.  I’m almost always glad I did. 

Happy blogging!

Getting New Parts - For Phannie and Us!

I took this photo today of a really neat little desk for Phannie we got at The Container Store.  We've been looking for something like this for ages, and we were turned on to it by a nice couple, Donna and Brian, at the RV Dreams rally in Kerrville.  While we were there, Donna and Brian invited us over to their beautiful fiver to see the desk, and we vowed to check it out when we returned to Fort Worth.  A clever design feature is that the lower section rolls out at the perfect height for a keyboard.  It comes with a nice cubbyhole module that sets on top of the desk, but we elected not to use that feature.  Best of all, it's on sale now, at $100 off the regular price.  Sweet!


So, that's the latest new stuff for Phannie.  Looks like Sandy and I will also be getting some new parts this summer.  Sandy's getting her other knee replaced in a few weeks (she had one of them done a year ago).  Then I'll get hip replacement surgery once she gets to a point where she's able to wait on me again after her surgery.   That had better be sooner rather than later, as I admit to being somewhat spoiled and fussed over by my wonderful helpmate.  I won't go too much into detail here, for fear that some of you may take her aside and corrupt her thinking.  However, I will just say, perhaps at my peril, that I have no idea how to make a bed, do laundry or, well, anything else that falls into the category of housekeeping.  (I may have vacuumed the floor at some point.)  I guess my only saving grace is that I do most of the cooking, which doesn't amount to much, as we eat out a LOT.  The other excuse I toss about is that I am still working and not retired, as she is.  Could it be one of the reasons I haven't retired is that I might have to learn to do some of this stuff that, mercifully, I have skated around up until now?    


I  failed to mention a couple of other minor surgeries that Sandy is having this summer, and one of those also has me worried a bit, as it is being done to give her some relief from carpel tunnel syndrome and involves having her left hand out of commission for a while.  


The only thing I have to say about that is that I've got to talk her into learning to fold clothes with one hand.

Rally Wrap-Up and Back Home

Fort Worth - Our drive back from Kerrville was in good weather with a peppy tailwind, something that helped a little with Phannie's thirst for diesel fuel.  For a change of scenery, we chose to make a dogleg over to Johnson City and up U. S. 281 to U. S. 67 to I-35 and into Fort Worth.  We didn't like this as well as the much less traveled U. S. 84 that we followed on our way to the rally.  The problem with U. S. 281 in this part of Texas is that it is mostly only two lanes wide, and there was a great deal of traffic today.  This made for a lot of frustration, I'm sure, on the parts of drivers who lined up behind Phannie at her usual 60 mph gait.  I hugged the shoulder as much as possible to let them pass, but there were a lot of miles that I couldn't give them any room at all.  Drive faster than 60, you say?  Well, I don't think so.  Once you get past 60, the fuel mileage for Phannie is downright frightening; at 60, it's merely breathtaking. It must not have been too bad for the other drivers, though, as I didn't see anyone give me an obscene gesture as they passed.


Howard and Linda made arrangements with Buckhorn for a really deluxe catered meal for the rally attendees on Saturday evening and a nice breakfast at the Sunday morning farewell.  The meal last night included a monster grilled pork chop with all the trimmings that was delicious.  


We had the good fortune of meeting a great couple new to us, Mike and Marian.  They are newly retired and fulltiming, and we share the good fortune of having mutual friends in Ed and Marilyn of Happy Wanderers blog fame.  We had a lively chat during breakfast and expressed our hope that we might run into them again down the road.  Maybe in Colorado this summer, who knows?  Happy travels, you guys!

Mike, Marian, Sandy and Mike

We really enjoyed ourselves at Buckhorn this week, even though some of the presentations were geared more toward less experienced RVers.  Howard and Linda did a great job, and I would highly recommend this rally if you're new to RVing or thinking about jumping in.  You'll be glad you made the investment.  And the people you'll meet?  Priceless!

A Side Trip to Fredericksburg

Kerrville, Texas - We decided to spend the afternoon in Fredericksburg on this day.  We didn’t do much walking, as Sandy’s remaining original knee just won’t take much of that due to arthritis.  She had one knee replaced last year, and now it’s time for the other one.  That will be done this summer, for sure, along with my hip which, alas, has the same malady.  Doesn’t sound much like a fun summer, does it?

We had lunch at the Auslander German restaurant, where we ordered wiener schnitzel, fried chicken and sausage.  That sounds like a lot, but the schnitzel was in a sandwich and there was only one sausage link.  (I’m still trying to think of a way to make the fried chicken sound less gluttonous; let’s see...we didn’t have dessert!  That sounds much better.)  Anyway, the food was very good, and we definitely didn’t go away hungry.

Dooley's Has a Little of Everything

We took a tour through Dooley’s Five and Dime store on Main Street, a true throwback to an earlier time and very interesting.  They have a huge inventory of clever curiosities and long-forgotten gadgets that I’m sure I need but can’t figure out why.

We stumbled around through a few other shops and made note of the new building for the Pacific War Museum, which we had toured in its old location. We will return to see what’s new after we get our new bionic joints.

For dinner, we chose Mamacita’s, a large and very busy Mexican restaurant on the main drag.  Let me just say that we were underwhelmed, but then we admit to being awfully picky.

After dinner, we went to the RockBox Theater for a ‘50s-60s-70s live music review show.  When we made reservations for this earlier in the day, we were a little put off by the $42 ticket price, but we were very surprised at what a nice venue it was!  This theater could vie with many in Branson for its size, cleanliness and modern appointments.  

Barney Fife Lives!

The show, much to our surprise, was outstanding!  It more than justified the ticket price, and the musicians were just marvelous.  Highlights included a Barney Fife impersonator who was spot-on with his impression, and the singer who gave tribute to Aretha Franklin and Gladys Knight was amazingly good. I still haven’t figured out how this little town of 10,000 is able to support such a great theater with this caliber of performers.

Performers Doing a Blues Brothers Tribute

We made the short drive back to Kerrville, ready for a good night’s sleep and fun days ahead at the rally.

Buckhorn RV Resort and Rally Review

Kerrville, Texas-The Buckhorn RV Resort will definitely go on our list of preferred camping locations.  Everything here is well planned and meticulously maintained.  The sites are all concrete and level and the interior roads are all asphalt with curbs.  There is a nice-sized swimming pool, a playground and a basketball court!  The huge barnlike meeting facility is perfect for large groups like the RV Dreams rally.

Entrance to Buckhorn

Park Office

RV Rally Headquarters

Main Traffic Circle at Buckhorn (Howard and Linda's Rig in the Background

Phannie and Mae Tucked Into Our Site

Upscale Private RV Community on the Property-Priced up to $500,000

Typical RV Pads at Buckhorn

A Fifth Wheel With a Built-In Patio!  Don't See This Every Day!

You may have gathered from this journal that we are not so much into “roughing it.”  If so, your inference would be entirely correct.  I suppose I admire those folks who enjoy boondocking and communing with nature, but we just find that the comfort and conveniences we enjoy win out over bugs, reptiles, varmints, dirt, heat, cold and wind.  As I sit here, watching our HD TV from a satellite receiver and using the Internet to post to this rag, I’m not entirely sure that I would be sufficiently challenged, intellectually, from an off-the-grid existence.  At the same time, there is the awful paradox of my being extremely appreciative, even reverential, of the beauty of God’s creation all around us.  It’s just that I would like to commune with it from my recliner with conditioned air blowing down my collar! 

And I can just hear the clucking sounds from the sinewy nature-hugging purists who think someone with such an attitude needs to be confined in a remote rehab facility for intense reprogramming.  That may be true, but until then, someone please top off my drink and add a little more ice from the icemaker.  Like I say, I admire these folks; I'm just not as tough as they are!

 I can see that I have digressed, so I’ll talk a bit about the rally. Howard and Linda put on a really fine event, but it seems to be tailored more for wannabe RVers or those who own RVs and are preparing to enter a full time RV lifestyle (meaning giving up their traditional home and living entirely in an RV.  We like the concept and the freedom of jettisoning the upkeep of a house, but we haven’t been able to reconcile the nomadic existence versus the roots represented by our current house and community).

So, having been RV owners for seven years, we have found these seminars to be somewhat elementary.  That doesn’t mean that we haven’t picked up a few pointers, but we have skipped quite a few events that involve subject matter that we don’t think would be all that useful.  The camaraderie is great, however, and Howard and Linda are talented presenters who keep things funny and moving along.  The group had a potluck dinner one evening followed by a game based on the old Newlyweds game show that was a hoot.

Visiting with Howard and Linda Payne

Howard Emcees a Newlyweds-Type Show

Sandy Cutting Veggies for Her Famous Bean Salad - Our Contribution to Potluck Dinner

Howard Presenting a Seminar

Seminar Audience (and Sweet Thang in the Foreground)

The best part is just being away from work, relaxing in beautiful surroundings and visiting with friendly RV folks.  We’re going to drive Mae over to Fredericksburg this afternoon to do a little sightseeing, so our next post will be about that adventure.

A Rally in the Texas Hill Country

Kerrville, Texas - As April draws to a close, we realized we have not taken traveling advantage of one of the two months of the year when RV travel is sensible in Texas; the other month besides April, of course, is October.  From May through September, the distance between the sun and Texas shortens to roughly 300 miles, causing our freeways to melt and the Gulf of Mexico to evaporate.  From November through early March, the weather is utterly unpredictable, but it doesn’t matter, because all the vegetation is either brown or missing, and the landscape unfit for recreation--or even viewing, for that matter.  (One should not infer from this mini-rant that I do not love my native state; I certainly do, as can be discerned from earlier posts from, say, the Texas hill country or Big Bend.  However, had I been consulted by the Almighty during Creation, I would have suggested that He give it a climate something like, well, San Diego.  However, I do not question His purpose; we merely compensate by air conditioning everything, and I do mean everything.)

Before the approaching inferno of the summer months, we decided we would take Phannie and Mae down to the RV Dreams rally in Kerrville, located in the midst of the winsome Texas hill country.  We had not previously attended an RV rally, so we thought this would be a good one for an initiation, as we had been following the promoters, Howard and Linda Payne, on their website, RV-Dreams, for quite a long time. Besides that, we have some wonderful mutual friends, Ed and Marilyn.

The trip to Kerrville was almost uneventful.  On I-35 south of Fort Worth, we were following an eighteen-wheeler fairly closely when I suddenly spotted a huge chunk of tire tread lying in the middle of my lane.  I had perhaps three seconds to catch sight of the derelict piece of tread as it appeared instantly from underneath the truck in front of me and disappeared under Phannie. I was utterly powerless to take any evasive action.  I was pretty sure that Phannie’s axles would clear the jagged tread remnant but, in a flash, it occurred to me that Mae, blissfully unsuspecting as she followed Phannie via her Blue Ox towbar, would likely get creamed by the piece of tread, which may have weighed as much as 20-30 pounds.  As I suspected, the tread did indeed clear Phannie’s undercarriage, and then I spotted in the right rear view mirror the piece of tread, now airborne and careening toward the highway shoulder, obviously having been launched into the air by its collision with something, which I assumed was poor Mae.

The engine brake was already slowing Phannie as I steered her toward the shoulder and stopped to see what mauling might have been done to our faithful little toad.  I hadn’t noticed anything amiss via the rearview camera, but only the top portion of the car is visible on the dashboard TV monitor.  To my amazement as I approached the car, Mae was totally blemish free!  I couldn’t figure it out until, turning around, I noticed that the mud guard that stretches the entire width of the coach behind Phannie’s rear wheels was bent backward about 30 degrees on the curbside end.  Further inspection revealed that the metal stringer holding the rubber flap had been bent, skewing the piece of rubber and the chrome nameplate upon which “Phaeton” is inscribed.

Phannie's mud guard saves Mae from injury!

I was so happy to learn that the mud guard had done its job in protecting Mae by deflecting toward the highway shoulder the piece of rubber that would certainly have damaged the little red car.  I’ll get son-in-law Tyler to bend it back into shape next time he’s over at our house.

We pulled into our spot at Buckhorn RV Resort as the sun was setting and hurried over to the rally headquarters to check in late.  Howard and Linda raced over and gave us a big hug, as though they had known us for ages.  What a nice greeting!  There were about 75 other RVers in the meet-and-greet gathering, but we didn’t stick around since we hadn’t begun to get set up after our arrival.  After that was done, we made a quick trip to one of the H. E. B. grocery stores in Kerrville to purchase a few food items that we would need for the next few days.  (We do not load much food into Phannie for departure from home--only those things that might go bad if left behind.  The other things we need--or might crave--are always available at our destination, so we don’t bother to schlep a bunch of food out to Phannie before departure.)

The park is very upscale and in a beautiful setting west of Kerrville on I-10.  I’ll have some photos in the next post.

A Fine Visit With RV Pals

I am often chided for my sometimes, uh, uneven posting schedule for this blog. The truth is, there is no schedule; I post something when I feel like it or when some significant event happens having to do with our travels—especially our RV travel.


Well, something significant DID happen last Sunday: A much-anticipated visit with longtime RV chums Ed and Marilyn and a first-time visit with their traveling partners, Bob and Janet. Ed and Marilyn enjoy somewhat of a celebrity status in the RV blog world, due at least partly to Ed’s dedication to their daily journal, “The Happy Wanderers.” The other reason for their popularity, of course, is Marilyn. Sorry, Ed, but I call ‘em like I see ‘em. (Grin)


Typical of many snowbirds, Ed and Marilyn established for several years a migration pattern that took them to the Rio Grande Valley in the fall and back northward in the spring. Located in Fort Worth, Sandy and I have the good fortune of sometimes being on or near their RGV arrival or departure route, and we prevail upon them for a little face time when we can catch up with them. Such was the case on Sunday, when they stopped at Mitchell’s Resort and RV Park near Perrin, Texas, not far from our current digs. We scurried out there for a little frivolity and immensely enjoyed meeting Bob and Janet, their longtime friends—a double treat! These two are relatively new to fulltiming, but they have chosen excellent mentors in Ed and Marilyn and have acquired what appears to be a twin of their friends' beautiful new Mobile Suites fiver.

Janet, Sandy, Marilyn, Bob, Bubba and Ed 

After a few hugs, we piled into our car and motored up to Jacksboro, where we met our longtime friend and RVer, Bubba, at the Casa Grande Mexican restaurant. We all had a great time together, laughing hysterically over our misadventures and just enjoying the fellowship of friends old and new. The highlight of the evening was Marilyn’s sharing of what had to be the funniest—and easily most disgusting—practical joke we have ever heard. It involved new Canadian fulltimers Trent and Teresa during their recent stay in the RGV, and I can’t possibly disclose the details here. It is a story that can only be told in person for ultimate effectiveness, and Ed and Marilyn (and Bob and Janet, who were witnesses) retold it masterfully. What a wonderful bond we all enjoy among these members of this great community of RV vagabonds—they have to be some of the finest folks anywhere!

Mike, Marilyn, Sandy, Ed, Janet and Bob at Casa Grande in Jacksboro

Afterward, we drove back to the park and took a tour of Ed and Marilyn’s and Bob’s and Janet’s new rigs, with Bubba (who’s looking for a new FW) drooling as the proud owners pointed out all the features of the high-end coaches.

Ed Shows Bubba and Bob Features of His New Mobile Suites

Bob, Janet and Marilyn Trading Stories

After much more laughter and talk about our current and future plans, we reluctantly parted, happy to have crossed paths once again with friends old and new.  Bob says Janet is getting ready to start a blog; we hope she does.  We'll be readers for sure.

Stuff I Think I Need

One of the things I find fascinating about RV bloggers is their seemingly limitless imagination and ingenuity in repairing, customizing or just tinkering with their RVs.  Some folks are remarkably gifted in performing their own mechanical repairs, like Clarke of Our Newell Adventure.  Others, like Mui of  2 To Travel’s Phaeton Journeys, do careful research and seem always to acquire just the right thing to fill every need or whim and then perform an expert installation as well.  Sadly, I am nothing like these talented people.  It is my lot in life, I guess, to expend my hard-earned treasure to hire professionals to do what they seem to do easily.


However, since I do have a few very basic mechanical skills, I carry along a fairly rudimentary set of tools, and I have attempted to assemble a small collection of parts, hardware, lubricants and fasteners that might come in handy if something breaks on Phannie which, of course, it will. That is not to say that it would necessarily be me using this stuff, but it might; who knows?


Besides things like spare bulbs, fuses, clamps and fasteners, I also carry spare parts that might not be readily available outside of large cities, like fuel and oil filters and an extra fan belt for the Caterpillar engine.  I also carry a good quality folding ladder and some of those triangular emergency reflector thingies that you set out to warn drivers of a disabled vehicle ahead.

I also carry a few specialized tools like filter wrenches, a voltage tester and even a socket that will fit the large lug nuts on Phannie’s wheels.  I learned that from a blogger who wrote that he had waited for hours in the middle of nowhere waiting for a service truck to change a tire only to be thwarted in the effort when the road service tech discovered he didn’t have a socket of the correct size.

Once frustrated by not having the correct adapter for Phannie’s electrical power cord, I now carry adapters for every conceivable power configuration that I might encounter.

Again, because I learned the hard way, I also carry an extra 50-amp extension cord.


Same is true for a regular extension cord and water hoses; I carry three hoses, again, learning the hard way.  (Yes, I know this doesn’t meet the neatness standards of some folks, but hey, I don’t have ulcers from worrying about it.)

And what could be handier than a good worklight?

I also carry a little label machine, something I’ve found that has a myriad of uses.  It’s amazing how much more organized I feel when boxes and bins are labeled with their contents and when obscure switches, handles, controls and gauges are clearly labeled.  (I defy anyone to tell me immediately which direction is hot on a single-lever faucet.)  They also come in handy to attach placards showing brands and specifications for fluids that might need to be added.  As I get older, I’m aware of needing more of these helpful little reminders; If you find a label on my forehead with “If Lost, Return to Sandy,” you’ll know it’s time for me to hang it up!

So, that’s a peek at just some of the stuff I think I need to take along in Phannie; I would be interested to know what you carry with you that the rest of us may not have considered…