Travels with The Rayman

Well, people, we’ve done it now.  We temporarily lost our minds and are now poor owners of a 32 foot motor home.  A home on wheels.  A home away from home.  And this is due in large part because of our dog, Beau.  Let me start from the beginning.

 

Some of our dearest friends have RVs.  And they keep leaving us for parts unknown.  Secondly, we like to travel and travel is getting very complicated with our Beau.  That’s because we also like to golf and so when we go out of town, arrangements must be made at distant kennels for doggie daycare.  That is a huge hassle.  Papers must be produced to prove that the dog has the  required shots.  You must conform to the kennel schedule which is usually 8-5 during the week, more restricted on weekends.  Well, that is difficult to do because it cuts into your time for telling lies about your golf game over, let’s say, a Guinness beer, after the round.  And you can’t miss your starting time because the kennel opened late….for instance.

And what about bed bugs?  You may find bed bugs in the hotel.  That happened to us once in Turkey.  See earlier post from June, 2012.  If it happened once, it can happen again.  With your own RV, you can protect against bed bugs.  The bed bugs in RVs probably consist of earwigs, spiders and the like.  But no actual bed bugs.

With an RV, you do not have to stay on the freeway.  People, have you ever noticed that all hotels are located about 5 yards from an 8 lane interstate?  All night long you are subjected to whizzing cars, downshifting semis, horns, you name it.  With an RV you can literally get away from it all.  Middle of the desert.  Middle of a forest.  It’s call boon docking or some something like that.  I don’t know enough to know for sure what it is called but I’m told it involves parking out in the middle of nowhere.  Anyone with an RV that is “self contained”, a new term to me also, can park and stay without electricity or running water.  This is because you bring your generator and a your tank full of water with you.  Admittedly, this is hearsay, but keep tuned to this website for either confirmation or a for sale ad for our coach.

OMG.  Speaking of coach.  I thought it was a handbag but, no, the word has other meanings.  Coach is what many people call these behemoths.  They are also referred to as rigs.  I thought a rig came with oil.  As of yet, I don’t know the proper terminology and thus I’m not sure whether to call it a coach, a rig, an RV.  Therefore, to settle the issue, our “whateveryoucallit” will thus be referred to as The Dog House.  Yep.  That is what we named our vehicle of giant proportions.  The Dog House or DH for short.  Which brings me back to the only time we ever used an RV.  In our infinite wisdom and for all the right reasons (moving close to number one son), we borrowed my mom’s and stepdad’s RV to travel to Tucson to 1. find jobs  2.  find a permanent place to live.  The bed was over the cab and Rayman being claustrophobic almost went crazy with the roof of the RV being about 5 inches from his nose.  I wasn’t fond of sleeping up there either because I was relegated to the inside position which required me to climb over him to get to the bathroom for my midnight run, so to speak.  So, when it rained, it sounded to us like we were living in a tin can.  And that’s how we ended up naming that RV The Tin Can.    See picture below.

 

But I digress.

The thing is, we aren’t getting any younger so if we want to pay through the nose to take a vacation, now is the time.  Because RVs don’t make any sense from a financial point of view.  You must cast caution to the wind.  You must resign yourself to losing money.  It’s not an investment.  But what vacation is?  It’s possible to drop a lot of change on vacation and when you return, all you have are some digital pictures, really.  Oh, yes, and the memories of all the great experiences you had.  I figure with an RV we can enhance our memories with grousing about the cost of gas, the fact that we will only get about 7 mpg, all the hiccups that will certainly ensue once we “head out”.  And the depreciation of the RV.  And the hassles.  Like the one we just created by buying the DH.

You see, we now need a car to pull behind the 32 feet of motor home that we, oops, Rayman will be driving.  I’m not so sure about me driving this thing.  I need to practice driving preferably out in the middle of nowhere.  And the reason we need to get a car is so that we can “run around” while the DH stays parked.  So, we’re on a mission from god to find a car.  In the lingo, I’m told this car is called a dinghy.  Nautical meets land yacht.  And it can’t be just any car.  It has to be towable.  That is, you must be able to pull it.  You can’t just pull any car.  And I defy any reader here to find a list of cars that are towable.  Go ahead.  Google it.  We have not been able to find the info as the google leads you to articles about cars that lead you to some dealership website.  Ah, the wonders of advertising.  So, the search goes on.  I’m sure we are just googling incorrectly

So there you have it.

I’m sure I can state with some confidence that we are the only couple to have a conversation as thus.

 

Him.  “What have we done?  How can I get a cashier’s check to them by next Saturday?”

Her.   “What do you mean?”

Him.  “We need to sell some investments.  If we do it before the new year, we’ll create a tax issue.  Why did we buy this now?”

Her.  “What?  why didn’t you think of that before now.  We could have waited.  There are other coaches out there.”

Him.  “You wanted it.”

Her.  “We wanted it.”

Him.  “Yes, but you said you wanted it.”

 

Censored.

 

So, while Rayman is on the phone this a.m. churning up money, I’m blogging because you have to record this stuff when it’s fresh.  My prediction is that life is going to be hoot in the dog house.  Because, apparently, that is where I am destined to live.  In the dog house.