Greetings.
Before I get into what I want to get into, I want to remind everyone that, The Bastard, William Least Heat Moon, STOLE my idea, made a pile of money off of it, and carved out, what many would consider to be, the ideal life as a result — living his life the way he wanted to. I will never forgive him for this. And, if time travel is ever realized, I will use it the way our esteemed VP suggests one should when someone offends you, for the sole purpose of transporting back to high school and taking The Bastard behind the gym. He is of slight build and in his 70s (I won’t let the Wayback machine futz with his age — just his space/time). So, I am confident I could take him.
The fact that he stole my idea when I was just a kid, and a good 30 years before it ever occurred to me, in no way mitigates his offense nor my unjustified anger. Besides, that time machine thing will correct the record about whose idea it was anyway.
The next thing I need to cover before getting into the titular topic is to say that there is a fairly good chance I won’t be heard from ever again. Never. Mysterious? Nah. Threatening? Please. Intentionally obtuse? Let me stop you there before the guesses get personal and hurtful. Here is what happened (pic related):
Those two little thingam’bobs are meant to be the one-piece thinga’mbob that charges my lappy. It snapped in twain, Mark. I am running on a full charge now, but, magic being what it is (and, technology is magic, by the way) I am living on borrowed time.
Yes, yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking, “Tommy, money is no object — just buy a newer and better one and get back at it.” Well, nevermind how wrong you are about money being the end all and be all of objects (and quite the obstacle) you have failed to consider just how hopelessly inept I am when dealing with all things Magic. And, I don’t mean that I have no idea which new lappy to buy (I don’t). What I mean is that in a very short while my battery will die, and with it will forever be lost my access to all forms of social media including this blog.
To get here, I must navigate to and jump through a series of hoops that are all User ID and Password protected, but each comes with a a little box that I can check that reads, “Remember Me”. And, it has. But, when it dies, I can’t even guess which email addy I used to set it up. I have no idea of the specific route that even gets me to that point. And, passwords have become so nuanced that I couldn’t possibly remember any of them. Hell, I have to write them down, but because of the special character requirements, I can never read them back correctly on the first three tries, thereby locking me out. And, that is to say IF I could could even remember where I put all of these little slips of paper if I did write them down. And if I did, I wouldn’t know which one goes to which account (because they all have different requirements) and writing them down defeats the purpose of the very security they are meant to provide…sunofaBITCH. So, I need a plan.
Anyway, back to why I am here. I have been away, which is to say, I have been HOME. Sort of the exact opposite of being AWAY if you want to get technical.
As you are aware, if you have read any of the entries in this blog, I ran away from home last year. I moved into my van, The EM-50 Phantom Rambler and took to the roads of America to see what was where. And, there it all was.
This is the same thing, The Bastard, William Least Heat Moon did back in the 70s. He wrote a best-seller about his adventures, then went on to become a full-time travel writer. Dick.
Wise folks for time immemorial have given the same sage advice:
Never tell people your plans; tell them your accomplishments.
So, here is my plan:
I am thinking about hitting the road again. Not with the same energy, vim, vigor, elan and other synonyms of enthusiasm, but, back to the road nonetheless. This will be an entirely different trip altogether, I think. I left the last trip somewhat unfinished and returned earlier than I had hoped because I had lost faith in my trusty mount. So, to be better prepared for this possible upcoming walkabout, I dropped the old EM-50 Phantom Rambler off at a reliable mechanic and asked him to give it a once over. Let me know if there are any potential mechanical issues with it.
I actually recorded some video of his report but it takes too long to upload and will kill my battery. So, instead here is practically a shot-for-shot “remake” of how it went…
Perhaps, the real reason I am hitting the road is because I can’t decide who to vote for. So maybe it is better if I avoid that confrontation completely. I loathe undecided voters. They are just screaming for attention and want to be woo-ed by both camps. I resent being one of them.
I mean, part of me likes Jill Stein, but really only because her Tweets are hilarious. To be honest, her Tweets alone have elevated her to GILF status in my book. Which, in the name of transparency, isn’t really a book. It is more of a desktop folder entitled, “DONOTOPEN.DELETEUPONMYDEATH”. But, even the worry of my loved ones finding my stash of Granny Porn will be render moot when my battery is finally charged. Balance will be restored.
So, there you have it. I’m coming back by going away. I think. I will blog if I figure out a means.
I miss Trixie already.