Archive for Uncategorized
July 16, 2007 at 5:12 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Last night I let the blog go unwritten, because I wanted to take a day off to think about where the blog is going and where my book project is going. Frankly, the book has been going nowhere. I have now written at least five completely separate drafts ranging from 3 pages to 83 pages, and abandoned each one.
With a sunny day to think about it and no other writing to do, I have come to realize that my block stems from the enormity of the trip. The task’s size does not daunt me — I am used to writing tomes of up to three hundred pages, and my output just on this blog amounts to about 20,000 words a month (roughly the amount of text in an issue of Airstream Life). But the trip is different. It defies summarization, definition, and explanation. When I grab a hold of one piece, the rest seems to slip out of control like a greased balloon.
So my book drafts have been readable but annoying. One started to read like a “how to” guide to RV’ing. We don’t need that. There are plenty of guides already out there (although I will say that many of them are terrible). Another draft followed the “People’s Guide” travel book format, and did work at some level, but it wasn’t what I wanted to produce. I may resurrect that one later. A third draft attempted to tell our story chronologically and even I was fantastically bored with it by the tenth page. And then there were the various half-attempts, amounting to three or four pages of desperate writing in search of a point.
Since I will soon have to get into some heavy writing and editing for the Winter 2008 issue of Airstream Life (coming out in November), I wanted to at least have a stub of a book worked out this month. That way I won’t have to obsess about it when I should be working on the magazine.
My approach today is code-named “Seamonster”. I have taken to naming the drafts based on what inspired the approach. This one got kicked off by a collection of essays by Paul Theroux called “Sunrise with Seamonsters”. Theroux is a writer who simultaneously makes me stupified by his incredible skill, and sigh with envy. Just one of his opening sentences is better than any ten paragraphs I’ve ever written. I am like Antonio Salieri to Amadeus Mozart, good enough to recognize a true genius when I see one, but not good enough to ever play his music. Perhaps with another ten years of practice I’ll get better.
In any case, I want to recruit you, blog reader, to review a few pages of the current draft. The format of “Seamonster” will be a series of essays, each designed to stand alone but gradually build on each other to form a fairly complete picture of our two years of travel. The first essay will be an introduction, and if the format works I’ll continue to write additional essays — based in a large part on this blog — to eventually reach perhaps 25-40 essays and enough to fill a decent-sized book. (Then I’ll ask you to buy a copy, but let’s worry about that later.)
So starting tomorrow, I will be posting excerpts from the introductory essay here on the blog. Given that each blog entry is about 800 words, it will take several days to post an entire essay. Bear with me during this, and do feel free to send your comments and suggestions. I’m interested in whether you think the format works, whether you’d buy or recommend a book containing such essays, and what topics you’d like to see discussed.
If you have nice things to say, post them here as Comments. If you have negative things to say, write them on the back of a $20 bill and mail them to my PO Box. That will sweeten the blow.
Bonus shot: morning view from the tent
Of course I’ll still continue to post pictures and events from this week in addition to the Seamonster tests, so if you aren’t interested in being an Editor-for-a-Day there will be Tour of America stuff to read too. Thanks for your help!
July 14, 2007 at 6:08 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Last night a bunch of friends came over for a beach party at the Tiki Bar. The Tiki Bar is a creation of my brother’s. It’s a rough wooden bar made of driftwood and scraps, topped with an umbrella and surrounded by beach chairs, a fire ring, a barbecue grill and a bunch of coolers.
The Tiki Bar comes to life when friends drop by. Last night it was: (top row) Ken, Karen, Bruce, Sue, Eleanor, and old brother Steve. (Lower row) Emma, Mom, Caroline, and Kathy. Also in the front row you can see Caroline’s dog, Nina. The black blob swimming in the water is Kathy’s Newfoundland dog, Allie.
A highlight of the evening was when Emma gave everyone a hula lesson. Below you can see the group reaching up to pantomime the sun, wearing the lightsticks that Emma distributed earlier.
Earlier in the afternoon we had all set up tents by the water for a big sleepover. Emma was really looking forward to spending the night “camping in a tent”. You’d think she had not gotten enough camping by now. But of course, sleeping in a tent is a completely different experience.
I have to admit, it wasn’t just for Emma. I like tenting a lot. The night was warm and clear, and as we were going to sleep we could listen to the sound of the small waves lapping the rocky shore of Lake Champlain. And I was able to share in Emma’s excitement about sleeping out in a snug little tent on the grass.
Since our tent is an ultra-lightweight backpacking version for two, Emma and I shared it and Eleanor stayed in the Airstream. This tent was bought back when Eleanor and I were childless backpackers. We used to go backpacking in the White Mountains of New Hampshire regularly. The last time we were in this little tent together, Emma wasn’t even an idea and we were camping in Death Valley. How things have changed …
It was a very nice night. Emma, of course, loved it and wants to “camp out” a lot more. We’ll definitely have to get a family tent now. I’m already eyeing spots in the Airstream to store a larger tent, plus sleeping bags and camping miscellany, as we travel this fall. I’ve got a few places in mind I’d like to use it, including the Florida Keys, Glacier National Park, the national forest near Prescott AZ, the Huachuca Mountains in southern AZ, and other such places where the Airstream can’t go.
July 13, 2007 at 5:05 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
For the past week Emma has been attending art camp in a crooked house in the village.
Since today was the last day, there was a grand unveiling of all the art and of course all parents (and in Emma’s case, grandparents) had to come see. There was some mighty fine art there, including painting, pottery, and digital photography.
For full-timers with children, we can offer this experience as an example of how you can enjoy local activities and communities even though you’re “on the road”. The class was only a week but it was a great opportunity to spend “quality time” with other kids. Even a family moving at a fairly rapid pace can usually carve out a week here and there.
The next structured learning experience for Emma will be swimming lessons. We’ll rejoin a bunch of kids that Emma has been learning to swim with for the past three years. Between now and the start of swim class she wants to keep going to the skating rink in the morning, which she has been doing for three weeks.
Rant department: Eleanor came home with a single container of Brown Cow yogurt (my favorite brand) and the bad news. It now has pectin added just like all the others. Not much, judging by the mouthfeel, but it’s the principle of the thing. Whose bright idea was this? What was wrong with just making it from milk?
I did some research and found this quote from an article published in Dairy Foods, May 1999:
Suppliers are making this [premium, all-natural yogurt] possible through the introduction of specialty starches for yogurt stabilization. These starches replace gelatin and non “all-natural” hydrocolloids, resulting in a simpler ingredient label to satisfy health-conscious consumers.
Well, that’s all very nice, but I agree with an online poster who wrote: “… yogurt with added pectin is no longer yogurt, it’s jello.”
Elsewhere, I read this:
Nonfat milk, when inoculated with yogurt culture, will not thicken into traditional “yogurt” consistency. So a thickener must be added. Some companies use pectin, some use tapioca starch.
The Brown Cow Cream Top plain yogurt I like isn’t made with nonfat milk, so that excuse doesn’t fly with me. I think they’re compensating for something. From San Francisco Chronicle, March 3, 2004:
The best-textured yogurt contains none of these additives [gelatin, pectin, gum], relying instead on high percentage of milk solids to do the job.
I’m beginning to see a yogurt conspiracy here. Time for me to try Fage, Trader Joe’s, and Nancy’s, as many blog readers recommended last time I ranted on this subject. (Hey, yogurt is serious business to me. A couple of spoonfuls every day seem to really benefit my digestive tract. And I love the taste … Throw some in your fridge and see if you don’t agree.)
July 11, 2007 at 6:00 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
This has been the longest stretch of thunderstorms that I can ever remember having in Vermont. Every few hours for the past six days we have had another one roll in and inundate us again. But tonight the blessed New England summer weather phenomenon arrives: a cold front, with dry clear air behind it.
These cold fronts are marvelous to experience. One day it’s as humid as can be (and I mean that literally, since our dew point was 72 degrees today and the high temp was only about 79), gray, calm, and rainy — and then a giant eraser comes across the sky to wipe the slate clean. Our stickiness vanishes in hours, with a thrilling blue sky above dotted with puffy white clouds. Suddenly, it’s time to be outside, ride in the boat, walk down the road, hike in the mountains, and swim in the lake.
That’s what the forecast promises. A glorious cold front is draped across New York state from north to south and it is heading our way, slated for arrival tonight. But in case it didn’t arrive on schedule, Emma and Steve decided to take to the lake last night anyway. The water was cold (probably mid-60s) and the sun was hidden, but they still had some fun.
This next item may not seem related, but bear with me here. This afternoon the dentist’s office called with a last minute cancellation. So I zipped over and in 15 minutes they were prepping me for some fun fillings. Turned out I needed two of them and one was a doozy. Mucho novocaine. Suffice to say that I’m glad it’s over and now I don’t have to spend the rest of the month wondering when the dental call will come.
So today has been a day of anticipation, and turning the corner. The dismal weather and the boredom that comes with it are nearly gone, and the threat of drill-and-fill is over too. By tomorrow things will feel much different (for one thing, I’ll be able to feel my jaw again).
Eleanor cooks Indian naan
Now, if I could only eat dinner without biting my tongue …
July 10, 2007 at 6:32 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Part of our summer routine is unfortunately to catch up on medical and dental exams, so today I visited the ever-friendly dentist and had everyone take a look at my teeth. When E&E were getting their teeth cleaned a few weeks ago, our dentist asked them to have me bring a current issue of Airstream Life along. They like to see how Matthew McConaughey’s trailer is coming along. It’s a reminder to me that even non-RV’ers like to read the magazine.
I also left a copy in the waiting room. We do that all over town: the ophthalmologist’s, the dentist’s, the periodontist’s (but thankfully I don’t have to go there anymore), the allergist’s, etc. People get tired of reading the same magazines all the time (People, Newsweek, Conde Nast Traveler and other staples of the waiting room).
I used to do it just for fun, to make people sit up and say, “What the heck is that magazine?” But in the past year I found the effort actually paid off in a small way. We picked up a few subscriptions in those towns not long after I left the copies. One person even wrote me a letter, saying that the humor column made her laugh so much that she forgot she was waiting for a root canal. She concluded with this: “Are people really this crazy about Airstreams? I’ve never seen a magazine like this before!”
The dental hygienist who was working on me today was very interested in the full-timing life. She had to keep stopping to allow me to answer her questions. Since she had a sharp pick in her hand, a bright light shining on my face, and plenty of other dangerous-looking instruments on the tray, I imagined I was being interrogated by an enemy government … “You will tell us the secrets of the RV life, Mr. Luhr, or my associate here will be forced to take, shall we say, unpleasant measures.” Needless to say, I answered all her questions truthfully.
They want me back in a few weeks, if an appointment time can be found, for replacement of a filling that fell out. So I’ll find out if the current state of Matthew’s trailer has found approval with the dental office staff. This is a little like doing a focus group survey. It’s useful feedback, really.
For the past several days the thunderstorms have continued to march through. Yesterday we had four, each separated by a couple of hours. Two of them were monsters, with damaging wind and hail. The power went out in the house for a while (but of course, not in the Airstream since it has battery backup).
In the late evening and early morning we get light rain showers, the evidence of dissipated thunderstorms that petered out over the Adirondack Mountains in New York. As a result, nothing will dry. The humidity is running 85% inside the house and higher outside. Anything made of paper lies limp, Eleanor’s hair threatens to frizz up like a shocked cat, the beddings feel damp, and as I drove past plowed fields today I noticed them actually steaming in the sun. Fog forms in low spots at any time of day.
But the temperatures are moderate, mostly in the 70s. It is the polar opposite of our home in the southwest, where it is scorchingly hot and dessicatingly dry. Eleanor and I have decided we like the contrast. It’s much more interesting than going from, say, New Jersey to Florida. Each year we will go from green/damp/cool to brown/dry/warm and back again.
In our past travels, we’ve found that moving from one corner of the US to another always brings delight, because it is so different. We’re looking forward to saying, “Oh, it’s great to be back!” no matter which direction we are headed. Even if the green part does require a visit to the dentist.
July 8, 2007 at 6:45 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
If you’ve looked at the “Schedule” page of this weblog, you have probably noticed that there’s very little scheduled in our future. Some people have interpreted this as a message that we are about to get off the road and settle into our house, and I had to explain to people several times last week that it’s not really the case.
What’s really happening is that we are simply scheduling less, and wandering more. In particular, we aren’t signed up for any Airstream rallies. It seems over time that we have been going to fewer and fewer rallies. I was wondering why this is, since we generally enjoy them, and I’ve come to the conclusion that our full-timing lifestyle just doesn’t lend itself to rally participation. Roaming across the country would seem to facilitate attending rallies, but in reality it makes the situation harder. In the past our schedule has rarely coincided conveniently with events we’d like to attend.
“Where no Airstream has gone before …”
This weekend we were forced to make the painful decision to skip the Albuquerque Balloon Festival in October. A bunch of Airstreamers are going to meet up there, and I had gone so far as to send in a $130 deposit on the event. It would be a tremendous event to attend, but we just don’t have a solid schedule for this fall and so we transferred the reservation to another Airstreamer from Phoenix.
The problem with full-timing is simple: If you don’t set a schedule, it’s impossible to be sure you’ll be at the events that interest you. If you do set a schedule, you’ll inevitably find that you have to skip wonderful places to keep on the schedule, which is immensely frustrating.
After numerous frustrations, we have decided to avoid setting schedules as much as possible. If we must be in Albuquerque in mid-October, we’d have to skip Fall in New England and rush about 2,000 miles southwest in six weeks. That may seem like a lot of time to drive that distance, but it’s really not. Between Vermont and New Mexico are dozens of friends we’d like to visit, dozens of national parks, and many festivals, hikes, scenic overlooks, photo opps, and museums to check out. No matter how much time we have, we can easily fill it just by stopping and partaking in whatever the local area has to offer.
So while we don’t have an itinerary or a fixed route, we do have a lot of ideas of places to go and things to do. Instead of booking spots at rallies and other organized events, we are going to simply take a list of things that are happening all over the country — including rallies, festivals, open houses, airshows, and harvests — and see what makes sense to drop in on as we go.
While I was at the International Rally last week I also heard from many people who shyly admitted that they read this blog. In some cases it was almost like they were confessing a secret vice: “I read it every day … just to see what you’re doing.” Well, that’s fine, and you can all come out of the closet now. I know from the site statistics that over a thousand people read this blog every day, and many people read it every day. Don’t worry, I can’t tell who you are — your secret is safe. Just don’t let the boss catch you!
July 7, 2007 at 9:27 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Vermont is the most rural state in the nation. That doesn’t mean it is the emptiest, or the lowest population, but it does mean that the state is uniformly carpeted with small towns and villages. These towns are great places to live and raise a family (if you can deal with the long winter and the lifestyle associated with small towns).
Once a year the town we are in celebrates with a small fair on the green, between the library and the town offices. It’s a modest event, but everyone seems to drop in for a while. Under the big tent there are booths set up by the various civic organizations and local boosters: the Historical Society, the local church, the town Recreation program, a trails committee, a conservation organization, etc. There were bake sales and raffles, too.
Outside on the grass, Master Roh (who runs a local martial arts class), was organizing the kids in contests of high jumping, limbo, and other energy-burning activities. A guitarist was on the porch, playing and singing, while under another large tent the library was holding a huge book sale.
I wandered in, not expecting much, and came out with several books: something by Primo Levi about his post-holocaust experiences, two travelogues by Paul Theroux, “A Brief History of the Universe” by Steven Hawking, and “Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee” (which I’ve been wanting to read ever since we visited our first western national park). All for $5. Eleanor picked up a few Hercule Poirot mysteries too. Those are always good for trading at campgrounds, almost as good as cash.
The thunderstorms continue to rumble through regularly, but that’s fine since the weather has been mild and actually pleasant between downpours. The rain also helps combat the dropping of the local seagulls, which seem to have an affinity for our new orange car…
Sorry for the lack of photos lately. I’ve been recuperating from the International Rally, where I shot several hundred photos and walked around for two weeks with a camera around my neck most of the time. About 170 photos remain after the first culling, and with time I expect to get them down to about 100 worth keeping.
Since I have no photos yet from Vermont, here’s a bonus shot from last week at Museum of Aviation in Warner-Robins, GA. The headless man is Brett, investigating a compartment of what memory tells me is a B-52 bomber. If anyone cares to suggest a caption for this photo, please leave a comment!
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