Ticky Tacky

Ever feel like your life is like the words in this song?





Little boxes on the hillside,

Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.

There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

Letting Go

Letting Go <<<Click Here

Getting up the guts to untie the dock lines and go cruising, or to drive out of the driveway and hit the road in an RV full-time, is often the hardest part of starting a new life of adventure and travel.  Taking that first step — saying goodbye to all that is familiar and comfortable — can be truly frightening.

Stuff

I was buried in STUFF...

A 1977 Nissan 280Z I planned on restoring taking up a spot in my garage that had been there for about six years.
A completely restored 1977 Porsche taking up the other half that I seldom drove.


A 1989 fully restored Chevy Silverado pickup truck that I had put only 3000 miles on in the last four years.
A Class A RV that mice were more at home in than me.
A canoe resting on the side of my garden shed covered with moss and mildew.
A storage area with boxes and boxes of stuff packed away years before.
A collection of at least 100 cameras collected over the years  and never looked at anymore.
Fourteen hundred square feet out of 2800 sq ft of furnished living space that I never used.
A 16 x 16 garden shed stuffed with garden tools and machines that hardly ever saw the light of day.
Mechanical tools that would have equipped three garages.
Six sledge hammers (what one man needs that many)

MORE STUFF  !!!

Probably 30-40 pairs of shoes.
Twenty suits.
Sixty t-shirts ( I counted )
Two laundry baskets of socks.  Some I had literally had for more than twenty years.
One laundry basket of underwear.
Shirts too numerous to bother counting.
A closet full of nothing but winter coats.

AND MORE STUFF  !!!

Pennies.  I took 4600 toCoinStar to be converted to cash.  Could barely carry the bag.
Shelves and shelves  of books that I had never read and never would.
Magazines that probably filled two large garbage bins.

Guy Noir

She stepped right up into the trailer, crimson hair glowing, lips painted a bright ruby red, those Double D's looking like they were going to pop the buttons off her thin white blouse and a yellow skirt so tight I could count the change in her pocket. 

She sat down on the bench seat, thumbed through a magazine I had laying on the shelf then turned and looked at me with those sparkling jade green eyes and said, "Nice RV sweetie, can you track down one for me?"

Guy Noir - "Travel Writer - RV'er - Trailer Trash Fan"