I admit it.  I enjoy the looks I get pulling into gas stations, grocery stores, and campgrounds.  Towing an Airstream, I can hear them say, “look, she is alone”.  I first experienced this phenomenon in Tucson, AZ, when I pulled up to the resort office.  There was a group of men sitting around a table drinking beer.  A few minutes later the campground host was shepherding me to my space, and not long after there was Doug.  Doug was also a single camper who liked to hike, from Wyoming, Doug was traveling east.  I was going west.  My neighbor Al was also a single snow bird for Ohio, who was very plugged into the Tucson music scene.

FAST FORWARD to March 2018: After visiting my pal Bill in Sarasota, FL (see earlier post), I was packing-up and hooking-up to travel north.  At the Linger Longer RV park, I had lingered as long as I wanted.  But there was Leslie. He was camped in the spot next to me; however, because he drives a Mercedes van, there was no sign of him when I first arrived.  Vans require you leave your stuff on a picnic table, but take your camper with you if you are going elsewhere for the day.  I should have noticed stuff on the picnic table.

Anyway, I am packing-up and hooking-up.  This is not the time I want to talk!  Water, electric, black tank hose, cranking up the stabilizer jacks, close the windows, crank closed the ceiling vents and TV antenna, hitching, etc.  Then there is the task of putting everything that wants to shake, rattle and roll, on the floor.  I try to do this in sequence need I forget to cap the black tank, or put down the antenna.  I have done both.  Not to mention no shower and not looking my best.

So, there was Leslie, a very handsome tall guy wanting to chat. Exchanging pleasantries, we both said we were interested in not traveling solo, but I was on my way north to the Suwannee Music Reunion, and “I gotta go”.

Leslie was on his way to shot video on a documentary film.  We exchanged cards.  Yes, I have business cards, it makes it easy to share my blog.

As soon as Leslie left, there was Michael.  Yikes! I am doing my hook-up routine, and don’t want to chat.  But, of course don’t want to be too rude.  My college roommate’s boyfriend said I was “brusque”.  Not knowing that word, I looked it up and liked the definition: adjective 1. Abrupt in manner, blunt; rough.  Yep, that would be me. I like the word, I never liked that boyfriend.

Leslie, however, had real potential, if only he were traveling in the same direction.  Maybe someday our paths will cross on the road2reinvnetion.  So far campgrounds are proving better than


  1. Brusque: a good word that isn’t used much these days. I love your posts. They always provoke thought or laughter. Remember to take time to smell the roses. You’re retired and can be late.

    Miss you!

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