There could have been several titles for this post. Among the front runners were: I Love My Husband, Side Trips are Stupid and I Hate the Internet. But ultimately, given the recent events in Virginia, kindness won out (as it always should).
I rarely have so much to say. My entries generally, I think, scream "Brevity!" But today, I find myself brimming with words.
We had one of our very worst days on the road today. Before I go any further, let me assure you that by "worst day", I mean a pretty excellent day by the standards of most people. I mean, let's not forget that we are retired. We were not in a hurry. We didn't need an expensive repair on our rig or truck. And we didn't have to be to work the next day. I really do understand how lucky we are, and I am grateful that our bad days are on a small scale now. Anyway, this particular day was completely unnecessary. It is a side trip to see the solar eclipse, an event that I am assured will be well worth our struggles. But to my mind, the teeth-rattling, bone-jarring, head-shaking roads that make up Minnesota and Iowa are among the worst we've experienced thus far, and no amount of moon-blacking-out-the-sun greatness can overcome that headache. I truly can not do this sensation justice in this post. It was as I imagine a shaken toddler must feel when its parents are overcome in a fit of fear and anger right after it has run directly into traffic in the Target parking lot...except for 6 hours straight. At least the toddler gets a secure, bolstering hug to stabilize it after the nerve-wracking strain.
Besides the incredible discomfort, the bike that we had stashed on the back of the RV came loose. It did a fair amount of scratching and flailing around back there before we lashed it back on its moorings. I can't yet assess my husband's frame of mind on that score, because there are bigger fish to fry. When we arrived at our destination, I experienced a bit of Deliverance. Our host for the week struggled with the basic facts of where we should put our rig and how we should hook it up. It was a 7 hour day, so my patience with Billy (oh yes, that is his real name) can only be described as heroic. I even smiled at him encouragingly. Where the heck is my Oscar? When we finally backed into our spot, our leveling system was so thwarted by how steep the hill was that it bowed out of the negotiations completely. I think we're level now, several hours later, but only by the sheer force of my husband's will. Our RV had nothing to do with it.
As all of this was going on, recent events in Virginia permeated our air space. I tend not to lash out at hate groups on social media, nor do I feel the need to cast blame on our President or my fellow citizens. These pitiful little groups were here long before any one President took office. And they, sadly, will be here long after I or any one President will. I do not wish to make light of the events in Charlottesville. In fact, I won't comment on them at all here, because it's far too large a topic. What I will do, however, is take to task those who have scolded anyone who won't engage in the dialogue on social media. I have been passively admonished this week for being quiet. A few of my friends, and a few "news" outlets have suggested that Silence Implies Consent. How I have gritted my teeth over this attack! Silence does NOT imply consent, any more than it makes one complicit. I don't throw my thoughts about a great variety of topics out on social media, but that doesn't mean I condone evil. The reason I, and I think many others, have refused to jump on the latest train of fear-mongering is that we see that it gains nothing. Fueling the fire of division and hatred makes it stronger. The fights I choose are smaller, more personal. And dare I say it? They're more effective. If I can change one person's mind about their thought process, I win.
So why this title? Why kindness? Well. Remember the bike making a break for freedom? The reason we caught that at all was because of the generosity of a stranger in his truck, signaling for us to pull over. Not only did he alert us to our bicycle's escape attempt, he actually got out of his own car, on a busy highway, to make sure that we were able to secure it. Oh, and that leveling system? Our next door neighbor in this park helped us to level our rig manually. What's in it for him? Not a darn thing, except perhaps the knowledge that he did what he could on one day.
We have been doing this, traveling across the United States, for well over a year now. And I can say without any doubt, because I have experienced it first hand, that more people are kind than are not. People are, by and large, inherently good. They don't need to be bullied or scolded to be so. They simply are. And today will be a better day.
Too bad about the trip. Your description is giving me flashbacks to a road trip I took in 1985 to the Northwest Territories. Winnebago pulling a trailer with 2 fishing boats (one inverted atop the other). We drove until the road ended in Yellowknife. The last 150 miles were 1.5 lanes wide, gravel, washboard. I'm pretty sure some of my teeth are still loose from that trip. I hope the eclipse is as good as they say. The weatherman is predicting heavy cloud cover for Minnesota.
ReplyDeleteHa! Spoken like someone who definitely understands! The prediction on the weather here is a 30 percent chance of thunderstorms. So yeah, that would be really frustrating. Hoping they are so very wrong.
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