From the comfort of my dinette in BOB, I can see a woman strumming an acoustic guitar and singing. She is looking down at a binder while doing so. I can't hear her because my window facing her is closed and I am streaming the radio version of "The PBS Newshour." I don't care if she's Joni Mitchell (whom I love), but what makes her think that anyone else in the park wants to hear her sing and play? Christ, she might as well busk. I'm going to loan her a hat and give her 50 cents to launch her career. Wow, she just stopped singing and playing to turn the page! Her husband is on his second case of beer and is grilling a side of beef. This could be a fun night.
When I checked into the Polson RV park on Friday, I had a package from my father, a replacement card from American Express, and two packages from Amazon. I use my parents’ mailing address as my own, so my father forwards, holds, tosses, or shreds my mail, depending on what it is. His package included a light fixture and GFCI outlet cover sent by BOB’s RV dealer, some mail, plus duct tape and bungee cords that he decided I needed. The Amazon packages contained RV toilet treatment drop-ins, plastic drinking glasses (to replace the ones I dislike), koozies, Casabella kitchen gloves (to replace the ones that didn't fit and neither do these!), and lint rollers. Today, I placed my 62nd order with Amazon in the last six months. They'll probably double my Prime membership fee.
Saturday was laundry-clean-repair day. The laundry and cleaning were routine, but the repairs were not. The replacement GFCI outlet cover that the RV dealer sent didn't fit, so I used duct tape over the outlet. The gasket which houses the wires that extend and retract the rear slide-out was semi-detached, and the wires were never properly fed through the gasket's housing. I detached the rest of the gasket, then I couldn't get it back on. The light above the master bedroom has never worked, which is why the dealer sent me a replacement fixture. I went to the RV park’s office to ask if I could borrow some tools: one, something to facilitate the gasket replacement; and, two, a wire cutter/stripper. I was told that a maintenance guy would come see me. He did. He said he would bring me a wire cutter/stripper and some wire nuts (because they were better than the electrical tape I planned on using). He said he'd look for something I could use for the gasket. He got paged and never came back, so I walked three-and-a-half miles round-trip to a hardware store. I bought a third GFCI outlet cover, a wire cutter/stripper, wire nuts in two sizes, and a siding remover which looked like it could help me with the gasket.
The third GFCI cover didn't fit, so I used the duct tape again. How many fucking configurations can there be? I killed the shore power, cut the circuit breaker to disable the battery power, and replaced the master bedroom light fixture. It still didn't work. My current detector said there was amperage. I fed the wires into the gasket housing and successfully reinstalled it with the siding tool and sheer willpower.
I was bruised, hot, and exhausted from the work, and when it was finished I had to put away the tools, clean up the mess, take a shower, and cook dinner. I felt much better after taking a shower and drinking a gallon of wine. I had assembled Chicken Marabella from The Silver Palate Cookbook two days prior, so all I had to do was add white wine and brown sugar before baking it. After dinner, I watched "The Hunt for Red October" just to hear Sam Neill's character say before he died, "I’d liked to have seen Montana.” Everyone should see Montana before dying – even bruised, hot, and exhausted it’s a beautiful state.
Yesterday, I signed up for Obamacare. I had expected it to be a horrible experience since the URL ends in ".gov," but it was actually rather painless. Although my employment ended in January, my former employers and I have continued our company healthcare policy through its term which ends August 31, 2016. One can only apply for Obamacare within sixty days of having lost or losing private coverage, so I had to wait until the beginning of July. I also had to wait until I had the fortitude to do it. Like so many things humans put off because they think they will be unpleasant, the anticipation of negative experiences exceeds their outcomes. Now, I'm anticipating that using Obamacare will be a horrible experience just so that it won't be.
The busker has gathered a small crowd.
Siobhan M. Knox
In May 2016, I bought a five ton, 25’ long Class C motorhome because I like to drive, I like to travel, and it’s more fun and less expensive than living in a hotel. No prior RV experience was required, and I had none: perfect. I’m writing a book about my adventures which will come to an end when I get a job. The dogs will be sad.