Searching for a Protestant Pope in Fresno
We left the Silverlake neighborhood of Los Angeles in the afternoon, in the last hour of pink-sienna-magenta sky before twilight. I’d sampled amazing Italian olive oil at The Cheese Store of Silver Lake, taken a delightful turn through the ReForm School, and eaten the best gelato of my life (Market plum! Chocolate covered raisin! Salty chocolate!) at Pazzo Gelato.
We were sad to leave L.A., but I was even sadder that we were leaving for Fresno.
Fresno: n., The place that you struggled to leave physically many years ago, but still struggle to leave mentally. A place you don’t like to visit, because as soon as you’re back it seems like nothing ever got better at all.
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A Little Help from Our Friends
We may not have mentioned this, but we’ve been doing this trip on a shoestring. Not to abuse the metaphor, but if you were using this string of ours to tie your shoe, you’d definitely think to yourself at this point, “Wow, I really need new shoelaces.”
You may notice that we’ve put a donate button on the sidebar to your right. If you choose to donate, you’ll be taken to a secure PayPal site. We wish we didn’t have to ask, but here we are–in Texas, far far from home. It was supposed to all work out–if barely–but things happen, sometimes all at once.
Read moreMarriage (and Other LGBT) Equality in Vermont
I know it makes people in New England cringe, but there’s a dream popular among New Yorkers of moving to the country and buying a farm in Vermont. I think Vermont is chosen as a setting for that dream because it’s rural, beautiful, and the people have a reputation for being liberal. Even though I am from the Northeast originally, before this trip, Vermont was one of the six states I’d never been to. (I’m down to three: Wisconsin, Nebraska, and Alaska.)
I was sad the weather didn’t accommodate a longer visit to Vermont. I really wanted to get to Burlington. I just knew I’d love it. It wasn’t to be, however. As we mentioned in a previous post, the RV parks in northern Vermont had their water shut off during the time of our visit. It was also threatening to snow. So we headed south to Massachusetts–where it actually did snow.
Read moreTrailer Life, Volume IV
Boondocking. Also known as dry camping. That means you’re not hooked up to water and/or electric. You’re using your batteries to run your lights and you’re drinking the water stored in your tank. Some people, like the ones who frequent freecampgrounds.com, spend a great deal of their RV lives boondocking.
[Aside: Etymologically, boondocks is one of the few English words I know of to come from Tagalog: bundok, or mountain. (If you're curious, some others are yo-yo and cooties.) American soldiers occupying the Philippines misused it to mean a remote, wild place. If you were in one of those places, I guess you would have to boondock your RV.]
Read moreMeeting with Rep. Inslee on the Respect for Marriage Act – Act I: Getting There
Oh, travel. You fickle harlot.
Somewhere along the way, we decided to drive to DC on the day of our meeting with our representative. I think it was partly a comfort concern–we were staying at my cousin Ceil’s apartment near Philly, and it’s got great things like a guest room and a shower. It was also partly a money concern–the park closest to DC is also very expensive–twice the price of some RV parks,–so we didn’t want to stay there two nights. It takes about 2 1/2 to 3 hours to get from Philly to DC, and our meeting was at 1 p.m. We left at 7:09 a.m. I looked at the clock on the way out. I remember being proud of us for coming very close to making the 7 a.m. goal we’d set.
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