home is where the motorhome is

Wisdom is passed down through generations. I'm sure that I'm not the only person who grew up hearing their parents saying "And my father always used to say..."

These words from the wise are tattooed on the inside of my brain, and I find myself repeating these little tokens. 

For example-

"If you respect someone, you leave them alone." - From my Mother's Father

My Dad and I took a 1977 GMC Birchhaven Motorhome from Jacksonville, Florida to Colorado Springs, Colorado. We delivered her to safety, but of course there were some hard knocks along the way.

Things were going swimmingly enough, as we drove 60 miles per hour seeing the South. From Florida, to Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and then Texas. Texas had different plans for us. The fuel pump broke, and we were forced to make friends with the gas station clerk in Carthage, Texas. Her parents, the nicest grey haired (I assume to be good Christians) transported us to our Holiday Inn. My Dad and I ordered Pizza Hut and went to bed early. We were going to solve the world's problems the next day, Saturday.

But no one wants to help you on Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. Mechanics are not open. My Dad figured out some solution and we trudged forth, not knowing if the motorhome was going to make it. We kept on, but the air conditioner did not.

In Paris, Texas, I felt like crying. I asked my Dad the chances of us getting the A.C. fixed were. He said "Not good." It was hot. 106 hot. I went into the Kroger and bought ice. 

We drove all afternoon. I rubbed the ice cubes on the back of my neck to mitigate the heat. It was hot and uncomfortable. But after awhile, your brain turns off. Also strawberry slushes in Jolly, Texas help. I sat in the gas station and watched a cowboy-who-had-seen-better-days play slot machines. The waitress in the restaurant asked the gambler if he had heard of the new strip club in town. He nodded, with body language indicating that he wasn't interested in talking. The waitress told him that if she were twenty years younger, she would get a job down there. It is hard to live with regrets.

After the strawberry slush, it was my turn at the old wheel. 117 miles later, we could finally go to the next Holiday Inn. The sun was bright in our eyes, as it made its way down to the horizon. This Holiday Inn was tricky to get to. I had to turn into the Walmart parking lot to get to the motel. 

To top off the day, a police pulled over the 40 year old RV. My Dad was standing up, an unrestrained and irresponsible passenger. I think we must have looked pretty down and out after driving so far like that, so the cop let us go.

So back to the wisdom. My father told me that his father said "You have to suffer some in life to enjoy it." My Dad expanded, "This trip would have been terrible if we didn't have the drama we had today."