Aside from astonishment at the sheer magnitude of the Rock, Gem and Mineral Show in Quartzite, and walking across the London Bridge in Lake Havasu, I had some other impressions to share from the last few days. The night before I drove to the designated GPS coordinates in the desert for Vanlife Pride, a gathering for “queer folks and allies”, I walked into town from my campsite for a sit-down dinner at a restaurant. I have learned the wisdom of sitting at the bar or the counter; it’s much easier to strike up a conversation than a booth. A big, burly guy with terrible teeth sat next to me and ordered the same thing I had, so I started with, “I ordered the same thing”. I asked if he was here for the gem show, but no, he was stopping for the night, as he is a “driver” (notably, not a “truck driver”). Now, not knowing someone, I can’t be sure he wasn’t lying convincingly through his remaining teeth, but here’s what I learned:
He did 13 years in prison for killing his nephew’s kindergarten teacher with his bare hands, which were already registered as a weapon. He caught the teacher in the act of abusing his nephew. After the teacher died, 16 former students came forward, and his sentence was reduced to manslaughter. His father is also in prison, not coming out, was never married and had 32 children. My dinner companion is close with 10 and knows 28. His mom never visited him once in those 13 years. His son is in tenth grade and is already being courted for college football scholarships. He is buying five acres near Phoenix and plans to grow all his own vegetables.
The next day, arriving at Vanlife Pride, I met more interesting people. I was particularly taken with a trans couple who went by Bagel and Biscuit. Biscuit’s mission in life is “Living 4 Dimples”, to put a smile on everyone’s face. Finding his FB page I learned he ran over a nun forty years ago.
I could have stayed, but decided to go to the next gathering because I had already bought tickets. Plus, the Vanlife Pride location was just at a random spot in the desert; I’ve only had to use my toilet for solid waste once and I wasn’t looking forward to breaking that accomplishment. The X-Scapers Bash is a completely different vibe than Vanlife Pride. There are roughly 250 rigs here. Tons of 35, even 45ft RVs, 5th wheels and trailers and the occasional van like mine. Lots of retirees and older working couples. I’m in the “solo” section, and last night at a campfire we went around the circle and shared how long we’ve been on the road and what our favorite place was. (Mine was the old-growth forests of Olympic Peninsula and the Redwoods.)
Over and over, meeting people and hearing their stories, my takeaway has been “many ways to live”. It seems all truths are obvious and even cliché to articulate, but they feel new and impactful as one experiences them deeply. Travel expands one’s horizons. It’s not as if I didn’t know beforehand that there were many ways to live, and I’ve always seen myself as someone who enjoys and embraces disparate perspectives and personalities. But, somehow it’s still a surprise! All of us are making our way through life the best way we know how, and the last thing anyone needs is to be made to feel less than or unwelcome. I know everyone reading this shares that sentiment, and I know we all wish our political discourse reflected the same.
Interestingly, I did have a little shut-down. It was Karaoke night at Vanlife Pride, and I wanted to sing my alternate lyrics to Girl From Ipanema. I should have just done it, but I made the mistake of checking with the DJ.
“Hello. I’d like to sing Girl From Ipanema, but with my own lyrics.”
“What do you mean? You realize this is Karaoke, right?”
“I do! I can just use the accompaniment tracks. My version is from the girl’s point of view.”
“Oh, so this is all about you, then…”
“Well, I mean, I’m performing, but..” And I showed him the lyrics.
“Yeah, no, I don’t think so.”
“Well, ok, you’re the organizer. I can just do a crooner song then.”
“Like what?”
“Maybe Georgia on my Mind, I Left My Heart in San Francisco or New York, New York?”
“They’re not really uptempo… but I mean, I guess, if that’s what you really want to do…”
And I’m like, “You know what? Never mind. I’m good.” And I went back to my van.
I must have vestigial Karaokus-Interruptus, because I still want to share it. Please sing to yourselves as you read.
Every day when I walk to the sea
I pass an old man who watches me
And I can tell he thinks I'm beautiful
What he doesn't know is that I'm
An engineer with a master's degree
I play piano and I speak three languages fluently
Oh, but I watch him so sadly
How can I tell him about me?
He would just give his heart gladly
So I walk straight out to the sea
And I let him pretend he loves me
But he doesn't know me at all
He only sees I'm tall and tan
And I have the effect of making people say "ah"
(and I'm not even a dentist)
X-Scapers is only getting started and goes through the 18th. After that I’m making my way to Grand Canyon, Flagstaff, Sedona, Tucson, then down to Big Bend.
Had a good cry when this 2010 pic of Sharon in Edgartown, MA showed up on my home screen.
