Sunday was a day of sheer bliss. I was back in Ehrenberg. I felt like I just got home from a trip and although the trip was fun, it was nice to be home again. I visited with Bonnie briefly after I arrived back at my usual campsite, and I made lunch. My biggest dilemma was deciding what to eat, as I was fully stocked up on groceries and had lots of fresh fruits and vegetables. The sun was shining, it was in the upper 70’s, and no wind. After I ate, I sat outside and listened to a podcast. Cosmo joined me and while I was listening, he was watching. What, I’m not exactly sure, but he likes sitting and watching what’s going on around us. I think he was as content as I was.
I thought back on the previous week. I really enjoyed my new friends that I met in Quartzsite, but also realized that there was some stress involved as well. I take after my mom; she was a people pleaser. She lived to feed people. You couldn’t come to visit without her constantly offering to get you another cup of coffee or make you a sandwich. Or maybe you wanted an omelet? Could she get you a brownie? Or a coke? You may as well just give in because she is not going to sit down and relax until you eat. And even then, the calm would be short-lived because as soon as you finish whatever food you accepted (maybe even before you finish) she was going to get up, and try to get you to eat something more. I either learned that from her, or maybe I inherited that gene. I found myself last week offering to make dinner for Neil and Eddie. One morning I made blueberry waffles and brought them each one. In a moment of clarity I realized that feeding people is one of the ways I like to take care of people. I also realized that feeding people is one of the ways I hope to get people to like me. Neil and Eddie spent most of their days inside working online. At times I found myself waiting for them to take a break or to finish work and come outside and play. I wanted them to like me. I didn’t realize this at the time, but when I got back home to Ehrenberg, it felt like a relief to not have to think of ways to take care of other people. It was just me and Cosmo, and I think he already likes me.
So I sat outside in the sunshine, enjoying my own company and the company of man’s best friend. We’d look at each other once in a while, and I swear Cosmo smiled back at me every time I smiled at him. We played ball for a while. We are lucky to be staying in such a large area, off the road, with nobody nearby. Cosmo can be off-leash and I can throw the ball as far as I can (I use one of those plastic ball-flingers, so I can throw it pretty far) and he’d run like a greyhound to retrieve it.
Monday was warm, a bit overcast and very windy. I stayed inside much of the day and worked on my junk drawer in the kitchen. I have decided to do one cleaning out/organizing job each day. The junk drawer was a catch-all and starting not to open and close properly. A couple of times it got stuck closed because it was overflowing, and stuff was blocking it from opening. I emptied it out completely, sorted stuff that needed to go in the tool box, and some things that belonged in my “electronics basket.” I ended up with about half the stuff I started with. It only took about half an hour but felt like a huge accomplishment. Then I made vegetable stroganoff (Thanks Carol, for the recipe. It was delicious). I was getting a bit of cabin fever, so in spite of the wind, Cosmo and I took a short walk, and I did some exercises with my rubber bands.
Tuesday was cooler, overcast and sprinkling rain. I decided that it would be laundry day. I gathered up all my dirty clothes (most of them already in the pillowcase I use as a laundry bag) and made sure to collect towels and washcloths so that I’d get everything clean. Laundry is usually a big chore to me. I have a mental block about doing laundry on the road. Before I owned a house, I would go to laundromats, and I learned to believe that only poor or mentally ill people do laundry at such a place. Rich people have their own washers and dryers. When I bought my first house, I immediately got a washer and dryer vowing never to do laundry in a laundromat again. Well, on the road, there are few other options and although doing laundry usually doesn’t seem as bad as I remembered, it always seems like a big chunk of time out of my day. In my sticks and bricks home, when I was a massage therapist, I did several loads of laundry daily (mostly sheets, towels, and washcloths from the massage business). But I’d throw them in the washer, take care of a massage client and when I was done, move the laundry from washer to dryer and prepare for the next client. When finished, I’d take the clothes out of the dryer and either fold them and put them away or throw them on the large table in the laundry room, knowing I was going to use the sheets and towels again almost immediately. No time wasted. In a laundromat, I have to sit and wait. And wait. And watch the timer on the washers slowly tick down and then sit and wait some more as I watch the many colors that make up my life tumble in the dryer. But this time I decided, thanks to a chat with my friend Jonah, that there are many “neutral activities” that make up life and we can either push them toward the negative or positive side of the scale depending on our attitude. I chose to make this laundry expedition a positive experience.
The laundromat in Ehrenberg is run down. More than half the washers and dryers have “Out of Order” signs on the lids/doors. If there are two people doing laundry, I sometimes have to wait for one of the functioning dryers to become vacant, adding an unnecessary amount of time to my trip. When I went in on Tuesday, I was the only one there, except for the man sweeping the floor and cleaning the machines. We chatted and he recommended which washers were best (there are a hodgepodge of different brands and types of machines) and which (only one) dryer has the best heat. He seemed to admit “We don’t have many working machines, and some of those don’t work so good either” but he pointed me toward the best options. I put two loads in and pulled out my phone and played a game of solitaire. By the time I won the game, the first washer had finished its cycle and I put the clothes in the recommended dryer and started it up. Then I moved the contents of the second washer into an adjacent dryer and started another game on my phone. In no time the “hottest dryer in Ehrenberg” had done its job and I started folding and packing up its contents. When I was finished the second dryer (with fewer clothes) was done and I packed them up and went to the dollar store across the street for treats for me and Cosmo. I was in a pretty good mood and decided that laundry day didn’t have to be a dreaded event. I went home to my spot on BLM land, hung up the clean towels on their racks and put my clean clothes away. It felt good to have everything clean, and since I tend to wear my favorite clothes first, I knew that the next day I could wear my favorite t-shirt and shorts.
Wednesday was even windier and definitely an “inside day.” I watched movies on my laptop and Cosmo mostly just laid across my lap. By the afternoon, we both had cabin fever and we went for a short walk. In spite of the warm temperature, the wind was cold and unrelenting. The walk was very short-lived and we went back inside to watch another movie. Thursday was warm and less windy. We visited Bonnie in the morning and had some outside time in the afternoon, playing ball in “our yard.”
On Friday, I got up early and was fairly organized. By 10:00 I was ready to head over to Q to pick up a package at a Postal Store, dump garbage and top off my fresh water tank. After that I’d made plans to have lunch with a man I met last week at The Magic Circle. We went to Silly Al’s Pizza Place and we both ordered sandwiches. We talked for a long time about our nomadic lives, where we were heading next, and made plans to keep in touch and see each other next winter when we both return. It was a really nice lunch. My first year on the road I mostly only had the friends I’d made over the years, and in between visiting them, Cosmo and I were alone. Now, I have many friends I’ve met on the road. We camp together or meet for meals. This winter I reunited with many people I met last year as they once again passed through southern AZ for the winter or attended events in the area. It feels like I’ve got a new family on the road, and I enjoy it.
In the afternoon, I got my weekly call from Richard. He checks in on me every Friday, and we talk, usually for about an hour. Often it takes that long for Richard to solve whatever tech problem I’m having. (He’s been my “All-Things-Computer” guy since I met him in the late ‘80’s.) It sort of rounded out the day spending time with old friends and new friends.
Lessons From The Road: My friend Jonah and I have been e-mailing back and forth about how easy it can be to change a neutral experience into a positive one with just a minor attitude adjustment. I’ve been consciously working on that and find that in a day there are about equal numbers of “good things” and “bad things,” with most of what I do being “neutral.” But with just a tiny push, I can get most of those “neutral things” into the “positive column” and it sure makes my day a lot more fulfilling.
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about people I meet on the road and my need to make them like me. After much soul-searching, it came down to realizing that I need to do a better job of liking myself. I often feel inadequate, especially as a gay man in my 70’s. In “gay land” 30 is old. 40 is ancient. I’m not sure 70 is even on the map. I put on some weight during Covid and have not made the effort to take it off. My skin has taken a huge hit since I started traveling; I think part of it is the years catching up with me, and part of it is being in the desert so much of the time. My skin is dry and wrinkly and I, who have always looked way younger than my chronological age, now finally look at least 70. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but perhaps the worst part is that I, like many gay men, have reduced myself to the body I inhabit. The man who lives inside is still pretty vibrant, mostly alert and constantly learning. I think I am, for the most part, fun, funny, caring and I do my best to always be kind. I can’t see those traits in my mirror, so I am going to have to remind myself of those qualities ever day. And I think when I feel others are judging me because I look old, or out of shape, it is actually ME judging myself. I think the place to start if I want people to like me is not to feed them blueberry waffles, but instead remind myself that I’m a good person and that *I* would like to have a friend like me.