I Don't Count

My nomadic way of life for the past 5 years has been quite worthwhile and interesting. But one casualty--me. I will likely not be counted in the 2010 Census. 

Since selling my home so I could buy "Tillie," this venerable, now road-weary motor home, I've relied on a series of old and new friends for a place to park. My home is literally this 27' Gulfstream Class C recreational vehicle. But my use is far from recreational.

Tillie is headquarters for my nonprofit organization, HEAR US Inc., a unique and highly mobile effort to give voice and visibility to homeless children, youth and families, especially those off the beaten track. I've found I don't need much--a computer, a data card, and a cell phone; video and still cameras to do my work. Paper--I try to do without. My board provides essential support services, faxing mail to me as needed, handling bank transactions, and keeping our efforts in front of the folks back home, or what used to be my home territory for over 40 years, the western suburbs outside Chicago.

Among the casualties of this roving is a sense of stability. I awake early morning struggling to answer the question, "Where am I?" Of course, sometimes I get to park in some pretty cool places (like this picture, from a PA state park). But more often I'm in a driveway, tethered to a friend's house by a heavy-duty extension cord. I will happily stay at shelters if feasible, feeling the psychic connection and often getting grateful hugs as a bonus. Or I "boondock" (RVer lingo for parking without any connections) in a WalMart parking lot.

My mode of travel has several perks: preparations are quite simple--make sure Tillie is in shape. My stuff is in my "house," so I don't have to pack! My food can be my choice instead of depending on road kill, er, fare. And I have that bathroom handy--clean if I cleaned it!--for those times when ya gotta go! 

Five years ago I was shaping this crazy plan. Five years, 48 states and 92,000 miles later, thanks to some incredible support, I'm still rolling. Homelessness, among families, teens and single adults, has skyrocketed. The economy has tanked. Gas prices have soared. Economic devastation, while some signs of recovery are being touted, continues to destroy the most vulnerable. 

I'm heading off next week for a fairly short trip--Macon, MS, Sheridan, AR, and Baton Rouge, LA. Not areas that make the must-see lists of travelers. But I consider each stop an opportunity to share the voices and faces of those who courageously shared their stories with me via film. The homeless children and their parents in "My Own Four Walls," and our new documentary, "on the edge," offer powerful insights into homelessness.

Seems to me that being semi-homeless is the best way for me to represent this disenfranchised population. It sure has made me think about not counting. I'm glad the Census Bureau doesn't jail scofflaws.

Tillie Perks Make My Witness Possible

Sometimes Tillie is a blessing, sometimes a curse. Today I'd say blessing if I can extract the moment where, after missing a turn, I had to back down a narrow residential road that dead-ended on me. 

I'm in the DC area for a few days and, because I could, I spent several hours witnessing democracy at its worst and best today. I took the Metro into the Capitol area, and saw the health care issue splayed out on the Capitol lawn. Testing the capacity of the Capitol police, but much more orderly, immigration supporters amassed on the trampled grass mid-Mall by the, um, merry-go-round. Seriously! 

People who know me know where I stand on both of the issues. So I'll share my photos and a few thoughts I think are worth sharing.

First, isn't it amazing that despite the apparent "crazies" and the amount of ignorant nay-saying that naturally arises about any issue, that people can walk about our nation's capital and express themselves? When I saw guns strapped to the hips of some seemingly strange people I did hesitate being happy about this unfettered democracy, but still...it's why our country was formed.

Of the issue-ites, I bow to immigration reform supporters. Most people of color and some  pale-faces (though I'm tanned after today's weather) did more to get to this spot of being able to wave flags and signs in support of a controversial issue than any of the rest of us, myself included. For example...

...for most, their trip to the good ol' US of A wasn't first class. The accounts I've heard and read about were harrowing to say the least. Read Enrique's Journey for starters. I've driven close enough to Ciudad Juarez, across the river from El Paso, TX, and felt like I could hear the cries for help. Violence, the complicated kind that thwarts the officials' attempt to halt it, has wreaked unimaginable horrors on residents and visitors alike. 


I've heard firsthand of labor abuses common to those whose documentation may be questionable. It's hard to call the cops for crimes when the cops will want to arrest the complainants before the abuser. I could go on and on. I only hope that the stand taken today, at greater risk than most of us would be willing to take, will bring about some massive improvements in how we treat P-E-O-P-L-E.

HC conversations either spilled out as heated "discussions" between people with little in common, or as small groups of righteous-sounding people vehemently upholding their opposition, with tones acceptable for Super Bowl games and the insights to match. I resisted chiming in from the other side about people I know, from family to homeless adults and children, who suffered mightily because of this greatly-tilted unhealthy playing field. 

This isn't the Super Bowl, but you couldn't tell that standing outside our nation's place of deliberation. I won't excuse the bipartisan buying and selling votes that runs rampant, but we have a process, and need to stick with it to make it work.  Let's take the energy expended on confrontations and use it to examine the actions of our political and governmental leaders.

I'm back in Tillie now, comfortable for the most part, waiting for the official outcome of the HC vote, much like I did when I sat in a state park in north Louisiana awaiting the final score of the Super Bowl game. 

Seems to me that when we have so much at stake we might want to try committing ourselves to civility as step one (such as the silent vigil this man made). It makes the next steps so much easier. But what would people do for entertainment? 




 

Driving Dirty and Proud of It!

I'm not a total slob. In fact, I appreciate reasonable attempts to attain some form of neatness, even when I'm the one doing the cleaning.

But I have to claim the title of "dirtiest RV in the southwest." And I just don't know what to do about it.

Tillie got a good cleaning back at the end of September, let's see, 4 months and 4,000 miles ago. Why would she be looking so dirty?!

I've washed her by myself before, and then said real bad words when it rained, amazingly in dry climates like Las Cruces in February! It usually rains the next day after the Tillie bath--a good way to break a drought!

So I'm going to keep driving-dirty. I will be proud. I'm not one of the pristine RVs that look like the maid, butler and valet came out to clean the specks of dirt off before anyone sees it. Nope, we're going to be the dirtiest little RV in the whole country.

On another note, I am sort of adept at electrical stuff, having taken a wiring course back in my lighting showroom management days. But I was a bit flummoxed yesterday when my GFI outlet tripped, not why it did, but how to get it back into the working column.

Have you ever noticed how small the writing is on those things? Reset? Test? Well, having discovered the breakers for AC and the fuses (which I've worked with before) for DC, I figured it was a slam dunk for flipping the breaker but the reset button wouldn't reset. Hmmm....

So I got down on the floor and again looked at the breakers, inconveniently located under my bed, and fiddled around, and lo and behold--it works. I'm not asking why.

As I am a month into this 4th year of my travels, I smile at the stress that I let myself experience my first time out...worried about whether or not I had full hook-ups, if the park had a gate, how long I could go without dumping, etc. I even sort of cared if I was dirty.

Now, nah! Whatever.