Robbie lost a life-long friend last week. We would have flown to New York for the funeral. But as with so many life-cycle events during COVID, only immediate family could attend. So there we were, towing our RV along Interstate 75, marveling at the Florida Everglades, and Zooming into Suri’s funeral.
As the landscape went from sawgrass to cypress swamp to pine uplands along “Alligator Alley,” we both shed tears and smiles as the rabbi recited traditional prayers and family members recalled Suri’s irrepressible spunk.
We were sad, but this was no despondent drive.
Continue reading “Paying Respects Remotely to a Friend Who’d Just Get It”
When I told my wife I would be traveling solo and camping alone at the Suwannee Roots Revival Music Festival in Live Oak, Fla., more than 350 miles and a six-hour tow from home, she wondered why I’d go alone. Wouldn’t the solitude and seclusion be unsettling? No one to talk to or hang with or enjoy the music beside? Wouldn’t I be… Lonely?
As RV campers (who also happen to dig live music festivals), we’re witness each fall to an occurrence that saddens us. Friends and fellow campers beyond Florida are telling tales of some alien practice: winterizing their campers. What is this “winterizing” they speak of so forlornly? The short story is simple: Campers carry water in pipes and holding tanks. Let it freeze, and both could burst. Not only would the repair cost no small fortune, but it could be next winter before the RV repair shop gets to your job. So, owners drain the system and pipe in antifreeze. It’s an annual chore that people like us in SoFla cannot begin to comprehend. Besides, we’re putting Damp Rid in our rigs during the summertime. We all bemoan the chores that speak to the seasons we may loathe, for one reason or another.