I have the greatest job in the world. I go to the places other people go on vacation, stay as long as I want to, the local attractions usually let me in free because I will be writing an article about them, and I get paid for having all that fun!  

But as much as I love my job, putting this issue of the Gypsy Journal together has been an absolute nightmare. We started out a little behind schedule because of our rally earlier this month. Then we discovered that the newspaper we usually use to print us has gone to a smaller size of newsprint. Newspapers nationwide are going to smaller paper in a move to save money. It’s kind of like the pound of coffee you used to buy that now only weighs maybe thirteen ounces, for the same price.

We have resisted switching to the smaller newsprint, because it reduces the amount of information we can put in an issue of the paper. It also requires a major reformatting of the layout, a very labor intensive job. But after looking all over the region and not finding a web press with the old size paper, I finally accepted the fact that we would have to resize our pages.

The printer gave me the new dimensions, I spent many hours making the switch in our layout, and then the printer’s production manager told me that their sales rep had given me incorrect page sizes, and I would have to do it all over again!

To add to all of that frustration, my page layout software suddenly does not want to cooperate. Needless to say, it hasn’t been much fun, and I’m afraid I’ve been a grouchy bear to live with.

When we started publishing the Gypsy Journal, we told our readers that they would always receive their paper no later than the second week of the first month of that issue date – for example the middle of January for the January-February issue. Thanks to improved technology and relationships we have formed with newspaper printers around the country, for the last few years, we have usually been able to get them delivered before the first of the issue month.

Unfortunately, we’re going to miss both deadlines this time around. So if you are a subscriber, I ask for your patience. It should be printed and in the mail by the end of next week.

My little frustrations seem pretty inconsequential when I remember that one year ago today, I got the terrible news that my good friend Dave Baleria had died suddenly and unexpectedly. Dave, the weeks and months since you left us have been hard. You left a very big hole in our world, one that can never be filled. I miss you everyday, brother.

Thought For The Day - Cherish your dreams, for they are the children of your soul, the blueprints of your ultimate achievements.

Back in our old hometown of Show Low, Arizona, I had a couple of good buddies who would occasionally tell me to shut up. This usually happened when I was teasing my wife or secretary about something, and teetering on that edge where one verbal misstep could lead to very bad results. I always appreciated those guys. They saved me a lot of grief over the years, and more than once I’ve wished they were along for the ride in our bus.

I think a lot of other people need someone to tell them to shut up now and then, for their own good. It amazes me how many people get themselves into dumb situations just because they can’t shut up.

Case in point – I got an e-mail from a reader who wanted me to blacklist a campground in California. As he explained it, he and his wife had a week’s reservation, and when they arrived, he noticed an Obama campaign poster in the office while he was registering. He said he is a dyed in the wool Republican, and wasted no time in telling the campground owner that she and people like her were ruining this country. One thing led to another, and they got into what apparently was quite an argument. Then he wondered why his reservation was cancelled and he was told to leave. Maybe somebody should have told him to shut up.

A couple of years ago I got a Letter to the Editor complaining about another campground, this time in the Midwest someplace. My correspondent reported that while checking in, he noticed in reading the rules on the campground’s map that firearms were not permitted. As an avid proponent of the Second Amendment, he felt it was his duty to tell the campground owner what he thought of their rules. He too was told to take it on down the road. Why did he even have to bring it up? Did he plan to sit outside his rig at the picnic table cleaning his shotgun? Maybe somebody should have told him to shut up.

We also knew a couple who were headed to Alaska, and just by chance they happened to spend their last night before crossing the border at the same campground in Washington state as another RVing couple we know who were also headed north.

The subject of not taking guns into Canada came up, and one of the men said he owned a gun, and had left it with his son while he was on the trip. The second gentleman said he too had stashed his guns someplace, but he planned to tell “those damned Canuks” what he thought of their country’s gun laws. Both wives and the other man advised him not to say anything, but some people just can’t keep quiet.

The next morning they both approached the border crossing at the same time. When the Canadian customs inspector spoke to the first couple, he noted their Texas license plates and asked if they had any firearms onboard. They told him they had left their gun at their son’s house, but that he was certainly welcome to look though their rig. He nodded, gave them a cursory inspection, and waved them on.

When the inspector asked the second fellow about firearms, he told them (in his own words, later related to me), “God, guns, and guts made America free! And if you damned Canadians had guns, you wouldn’t be answering to any damned queen!” Several hours later, his rig nearly disassembled, they told him he was free to continue on his trip. Wouldn’t it have been a lot easier to just shut up?

I learned early on as a young driver that if a police officer stopped me, not to argue. “Say yes sir, no sir,” and otherwise keep my mouth shut. It took me a couple of bad marriages to learn that same lesson at home. And I might not have learned it then, if it were not for my pals who were always ready to say “Shut up, Nick.” 

I’ll shut up now.

Thought For The Day - Four wheels move the body. Two wheels move the soul.

My Dad lived through the hard times of the Great Depression, and used to say “They can take away your car, they can take away your home, they can take away your money, they can even take away your freedom. But they can’t take away your memories.”

Those words are so true.

I was reminded of that when Joe and SuzAnne Padberg, a nice couple from Alberta, Canada, stopped by the bus to introduce themselves yesterday. Joe has a couple of buses back home that he has collected with the plan of converting someday. SuzAnne commented that she’s not sure if they should spend the time involved in building a conversion, instead of buying a finished coach to travel in. “I worry sometimes that time will run out before we get to get out and start traveling like we want to,” she said.

Over the years, I cannot begin to count the number of people I have talked to who have told me that they wanted to fulltime “someday.” But while they were waiting for someday to arrive, life got in the way. A husband or wife got sick and could not travel; or one of them died, and the one left behind couldn’t picture living their dream alone.

I have also talked to people who hung up the keys for one reason or another, and every one has said the same thing: “At least we got to try it for a while, and we’ll always have those memories.”

Terry and I have been very fortunate in that we have built some wonderful memories together in our life on the road. Some of my favorite memories, in no particular order, are kayaking the blue and aqua waters of the Florida Keys; wading in the Gulf of Mexico at Long Beach, Mississippi, on a hot day when the water was so warm it was like stepping into a bathtub; exploring the French Quarter of New Orleans; seeing the commercial fishing boats tied up at Conn Brown Harbor in Aransas Pass, Texas on an afternoon when the thick fog made everything look ghostly and surreal; walking the Freedom Trail in Boston; driving past acre after acre of wild poppies near Lancaster, California one beautiful Spring day; sharing fresh baked Greek baklava at a bakery in Tarpon Springs, Florida; and marveling at the beautiful Fall colors of northern Michigan.

Those are just a few of the favorite memories that RVing has given me. I have many more that I don’t have space to share here.

I’m curious, what are some of yours?

Thought For The Day - If you are going to try cross country skiing, start with a small country. 

I received three e-mails in as many days from different people who have been dreaming of the day when they could shake their sticks and bricks home and hit the road as fulltime RVers. The theme in all three messages was the same: With the current state of the economy, with the RV industry in such a slump, and with a new president in the White House, would they be foolish to take such a drastic step? Is the dream of fulltiming dead?

Yes, the economy is in the toilet. Yes the robber barons on Wall Street have pillaged and plundered their way through millions of peoples’ retirement funds. Yes, the con artists who run the big banks are wasting the tax dollars the government gave them. Yes, speculators are driving up fuel prices again. Yes, the home you thought would appreciate in value and finance your retirement has become an albatross around your neck that you can’t sell. Yes, many RV companies have dropped out of the game..

Folks, we can’t change the way things are. What we can do is live our lives the way we choose, not the way some jerk in a three piece suit tells us we should live it. There will always be doom and gloom if we look for it. But there is even more to be happy about and to rejoice in, right in front of our noses.

You may have lost a ton of money in the market. But maybe that was a wake up call. Should you really trust what you have left to the same clowns who got you into this mess? Or should you take it and live your dream?

Fuel prices may be on the rise, but they are still lower than they have been in years. I can fill my tank for about half of what it cost me a year ago.

Indeed, many RV companies have closed their doors. But remember, cream always rises to the top. As the weaker RV manufacturers fade away, those who remain should be the companies who build quality into their units and take care of the customer after the sale.

Okay, you can’t get what you hoped to out of your house. But anything is only worth what somebody will give you for it right now. Be realistic. Was its value a year or two ago real, or just numbers in the air? Do you hold on forever, waiting for the market to rebound, or do you do what you have to do to unload it and get on with your life?

The flip side of that coin is that it’s a buyer’s market for RVs and prices have never been lower than they are right now. Get creative and you can probably still make a deal.

When I was in college, a professor illustrated to me the difference between a pessimist and an optimist. A pessimist is a little boy in a room full of shiny new toys who is crying because he just knows if he takes one out of the box, it’s going to break. An optimist is a little boy in a stable piled waist high in manure, shoveling away with a big grin on his face, because he knows there’s a pony in there somewhere!

Only you can decide if the dream is still alive.

Are you in a room full of fragile toys, or are you working your way through all of the crap that life has piled in your way, getting closer and closer to that pony with every scoop?

Thought For The Day - Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

With our rally over and our trip to San Diego behind us, it’s time to settle down and get some work done.

As I wrote a while back, the standard size of American newspapers is shrinking, and our regular printers here in Arizona have switched to the new smaller page sizes. This has required a complete rebuild of the new issue of the Gypsy Journal, setting us back on our print date. We’ll be sending the new issue out late next week, a little behind schedule, unfortunately.

One of the challenges to publishing America’s only on the road periodical that we are aware of, is that we don’t have just one newspaper we use to print every issue. We farm the actual printing out to different newspapers in different parts of the country, wherever we happen to be traveling. Sometimes they get us in and out fast, and other times we go to the bottom of the pile and wait while they take care of their regular customers. I understand why they do this, and when I was running my own print shop, I did the same thing. But it’s still frustrating to have to cool our heels and wait.

We’ll never be able to retire, but if I ever did, I think I’d still be just as busy. There is so much I want to do, but never seem to find the time for. As I wrote a few days ago, Dan Foshee gave me a book on drawing and some art supplies because I told him at our Ohio Gypsy Gathering rally how much I have always wanted to be able to draw. That is something that I’d really love to apply myself to, just to see if I could ever create more than lopsided stick people.

Something else I have always thought would be interesting to learn more about is genealogy. One of my cousin’ has done a lot of research on my mother’s side of the family, but I really don’t know a lot about my Dad’s side. My parents, grandparents, and all of my uncles and aunts that I ever knew have long since passed away. I am the youngest of my parents’ eight offspring, and the only one still alive. So except for some remembered family stories from long ago, I really don’t have a starting point. Or at least I didn’t think I did. 

At our recent Gypsy Gathering rally in Casa Grande, Judy Bayless put on an excellent seminar called The RVing Genealogist. I got busy and was not able to sit in on the seminar, but everyone who attended it gave Judy rave reviews.

As it turns out, Judy and her husband Walt are parked right in front of us here at Tra-Tel RV Park in Tucson, and last night they took Terry and I out to a wonderful Mexican dinner. Back at their Holiday Rambler motorhome, Judy fired up her computer, and logged into www.ancestry.com.

With just the sketchy information I could give her, she was able to pull up the 1930 and 1920 U.S. Census and locate information on my parents as young newlyweds living on a farm in Michigan, on my Dad’s parents, his brothers and sisters, and even my great grandmother! How cool is that?

Genealogy and RVing go hand in hand, and we have met many fulltimers who research their family trees as they travel. Judy has promised to come to our rally next year and present her seminar again, and you can bet I’ll be sitting right in the front row!  

Thought For The Day - There is no education like adversity.