Original or not?

I imagined I was being original the first time I used the phrase, “I’m houseless, not homeless,” or, “I’m not homeless, just houseless.” 

I don’t remember hearing it anywhere else before I said it to Jessica Bruder when she was interviewing us nomads for her Haper’s article, “The End of Retirement,” which led to her book, Nomadland. She attributed the quip to me. And Frances McDormand repeated the line in the movie.

It’s a simple, pithy phrase that effectively explains the nomadic life. No wonder it has spread during the past half dozen years. Has it spread faster and wider than would be possible if it had originated with little old me? Is it a case of simultaneous independent invention? Or is it one of those two-people-each-tell-two-people-who-each-tell-two-people-and-so-on exponential propagation things?

My egotistical side wants to take all the credit. My impoverished side wants to own the rights and charge outrageous fees for its use. 

What I’ve missed along the way

I’ve been reading guidebooks and websites and watching videos about hiking in southern Utah. over and over I smack my head because I’ve been very near many of the featured places but had no clue at the time.

“All this was just up that side road? Doh!”

But life is like that. We pass by interesting, beautiful, enriching things because we don’t know they’re there, because we never paused to consider whether anything might be there, because we had more pressing things to do. 

They say ignorance is bliss, but learning you’ve been ignorant and that you’ve missed a lot of opportunities because of it isn’t blissful at all.

On family vacation trips my father was so focused on getting to the destination that we never stopped at cool things along the way. I’ve inherited a tiny bit of that destination fixation. But my lack of detours has mostly been due to the aforementioned ignorance. I would have stopped if I had known.

So I’ve vowed to myself to do more homework before heading off anywhere. And to slow down. Yes, I could get from A to B in a day and a half, but there’s seldom any reason to hurry. What if I took a week instead? Or a month? “Get out the books, Al. Get out the maps. Get out of the rut.” 

Stuff!

The first load of merch is available at my Teespring store. Stickers, mugs, tees, tanks, hoodies. Everything is priced less than what Teespring suggests, but I still need to make some money.

I want to thank my former coworker and current friend, Brandon Scharr, for the designs. Here are some samples:

Here’s the link again to my store: https://teespring.com/stores/rolling-steel-tent-merch.

Is Nomadland a downer?

Several viewers—including nomads—have complained that Nomadland is depressing. Perhaps they missed the themes of self-discovery, new beginnings, freedom, community, kindness and hope. 

But, yeah, there are dark aspects to the movie. Death, for example. Fran’s husband has died. Her town and the life she knew has died. The American Dream has died. Retirement has died. Her tire, van and dishes died. The retired man with the boat died. Deni’s elders had died. Linda May had contemplated suicide. Bob’s son had ended his life. Swankie dies.

These deaths hit us harder because they’re not stylized deaths in some melodrama or action movie. These are matter-of-fact, yeah-life’s-like-that, it’ll-happen-to-us-all-eventually deaths. Mundane deaths. These deaths are uncomfortably close to life as we experience it. These deaths are painfully familiar—especially for those of us in the latter half of life. We’ve lived long enough to lose family and friends, and our own death is a constant shadow.

I had made peace with my mortality long before my showdown with it during the summer of 2019. I think the acceptance of death starts with acceptance of our selves and our mistakes. The opportunities we let pass by, the opportunities we botched, the good we could’ve/should’ve done, the harm we did do, the forgiveness we haven’t granted, the gratitude or love we haven’t expressed… The regrets. 

Fern, Linda May, Swankie, Bob—and nearly every nomad I know—didn’t let regret, disappointment, rejection, hardship or the shadow of death paralyze them. They pushed onward. And that’s beautiful, not depressing.

Seen

It's all relative

It’s seasonal transition time again. It’s gradually warming here in southwest New Mexico, with the occasional hesitation or step back toward winter. It’s the time of year I shuffle my bedding and sleepwear trying to find each night’s Goldilocks level of just-rightness. 

A few nights ago I dreamed I was sweating. I woke up to discover… I was sweating. The heater was on. And I had used the extra blanket. 

Last night I turned in with just my down quilt. I woke up in the wee hours (the hours when you need to get up to wee) and realized I a tiny bit too cool for comfort. I could turn on the heater or grab the other blanket, but I didn’t want to get up and make the change. I was a little cool, but otherwise very comfortable, relaxed and contented.

So I tried a mind game. I imagined it was summer and the chill I was experiencing was glorious air conditioning. That worked for only a few seconds. 

What if I imagined it’s a brutal polar winter outside and appreciated it not being -40° in my bed? That worked a little better.

Then I accidentally discovered a good solution. I shifted my position and hit a much colder patch, one that hadn’t been warmed by my body. Yow! I shifted back to my original position. Ah, that’s better. Nice and warm-ish.

(I know the relationship between °F and °C are messed up on the stock art above. 0°C should align with 32°F, and so on.)

The news is not good

So, is there a reason I’ve been hanging out at Lou’s place? And is there a reason I haven’t posted much? Um, yeah.

I have no great way to put this. Lou has advanced lung cancer. It probably metastasized from the renal cancer that resulted in the loss of a kidney a few years ago. 

The lung cancer is inoperable and chemotherapy would be lethal. His oncologist wants to try a medicine that costs tens of thousands of dollars per dose. Even with Medicaid, Medicare, and special discounts for low-income people, Lou would be left with copays far beyond his means. He’s exploring unconventional treatments, but even those require funds he just doesn’t have.

Lou is proudly self-sufficient and far more likely to offer aid than to ever seek it. But the reality of his financial situation has made him realize he needs help.

We could start a Go Fund Me drive, but we decided donors’ money would go farther without a middleman.

So you’re if inclined and able to give, send your contributions to Lou’s PayPal account: lbrochetti@gmail.com.

It’s a sad situation. All of us who love Lou wish there were more we could do, like wave a magic wand and make everything good again. But at least we can relieve some of his financial distress.

The two Alans

My nomad friend Alan was camping nearby, so I drove out to spend some time. Good conversation, caught up on things, worked on our tans.

Step 1

Thank you, New Mexico Department of Health

Adventures in Adventure Foods: The Pad Thai Challenge

I love pad thai. Well, I love good pad thai. So would the offerings from Backpacker’s Pantry and Food To-Go make me happy? Would they even resemble pad thai?

FOOD TO-GO

Unlike most dehydrated meals, Food To-Go came as a single serving—which makes more sense to me. Also, unlike normal pad thai, the noodles were cut into short pieces to help the rehydration process. No big deal, just different. Food To-Go claimed to contain shrimp.

Food To-Go was very disappointing. It didn’t taste bad, it just didn’t taste like pad thai. Although there were crumbled peanuts, there was no peanut flavor. And the shrimp was invisible. They should either reformulate their recipe or rename it something like Sort of Asian Noodle Thing.

BACKPACKER’S PANTRY

Backpacker’s Pantry had short noodles too, but it also came with packets of peanut butter, lime powder (I didn’t know there was such a thing, other than Jell-O or Kool-Aid) and powdered sriracha. No shrimp or chicken.

Backpacker’s Pantry tasted much better, fairly close to my memory of great pad thai. The peanut butter really helped. Instructions said to add the sriracha to taste and that a whole packet was the rough equivalent to medium at a Thai restaurant. I went with half the packet to be safe. It was just right for me. If I were ever to have some of this again I would probably add some of my canned chicken to the mix.

The next morning

After having brief flurries blow through yesterday, Mr. Freeze came to spend the night. I guess this is my karma for bragging about wearing shorts a couple of weeks ago.

Not spring yet

Spring in Douglas AZ

Adventures in dollar store foods: Stampede Boneless Beef Ribeye Steak

Meat prices are ridiculous these days. Well, just about all food prices are ridiculous, but particularly beef. So a dollar for something claiming to be ribeye steak? Sure, it’s not going to be spa-raised, caviar-fed, ultra-prime, imported-from-the-realm-of-the-gods beef, but, as I’ve said several times before, it’s only a buck.

The steak comes shrink wrapped and frozen rock solid. It had thawed by the time the photos were taken. It’s not simply pure beef. Seasonings and tenderizers had been added. A little something extra for your money, I suppose.

I cooked it up with a little butter. It didn’t take long since it was only about a quarter inch thick. The label says it had been salted and rubbed with seasoning, so I added none. Until I tasted it. It needed salt and pepper. I suppose that’s better than it coming oversalted.

The package also claims it was tenderized both mechanically and with bromelain (which, according to WebMD, is a group of enzymes found in pineapple juice and in the pineapple stem). Now, ribeye is supposed to be one of the most tender cuts, so why all the tenderizing?

Because it needed it. Desperately. This was one of the toughest pieces of meat I’ve ever had. Maybe that’s a plus. It makes the small steak last longer. All that chewing takes time.

I guess if your keto diet requires more meat than your bank account can provide, or if you’re totally addicted to anything even vaguely resembling steer, then this stuff is an option. But not a very good one.

Good afternoon

I moved on down the road, heading eastward. Today’s stopover is Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge near Arivaca, Arizona. Tomorrow will be through Patagonia, Sierra Vista and Bisbee to Douglas. Got places to go, things to do.

Good morning

 

Onward!

I had a video conference with my oncologist this morning. According to the PET scan, everything is good. I have no symptoms and feel great. He wants me to check back in six months.

Afterward I packed up and headed out. I need to go to Douglas AZ to take care of a small matter, then I’ll continue on to see Lou in New Mexico—even though it’s still below freezing at night there.

In preparation for cold I stopped by Walmart to get an electric heater. I could plug it in at Lou’s and let it run during the night. But, you know, with it being the end of winter in southern Arizona, the heaters have been replaced on the shelves by fans and air conditioners. 

I went to another Walmart. Same story, but then I spotted a small electric heater on a different aisle. Clearance priced. It says it’s 1,500 Watts. I don’t know how to translate that number into heat. BTUs make more sense to me. We’ll see if this thing does any good.

Since I didn’t get out of Yuma until after lunch I decided to break the drive to Douglas into two parts. So I’m camped just outside Ajo, up Darby Well Road. The area is thick with desert plant life. But not overly thick with boondockers.

Adventures in Adventure Food: Alpineaire Foods Kung Pao Beef

I was near an REI when I was at the Coast, so I went in to check out their day packs and hydration packs. My current pack, an old Marmot Gunnison, is 30-something liters. I don’t carry that much stuff. Yeah, I can cinch it in some, but still… And it has so many pockets, and pockets within pockets, that I spend too much time trying to find what I put in it. Although there were several choices in the 13-20 liter range, there were none that spoke to me enough. So I checked out the rest of the store.

Ah-ha, freeze-dried foods. Several different brands, many choices. The Kung Pao Beef from Alpineaire Foods looked promising. Or at least interesting. I like kung pao, though I once learned the hard way not to try eating it in a restaurant that’s too dark to see the chiles. Woo! Fire!

I had one of those moments with this stuff, because the chiles aren’t as obvious. Not a good start. Once I recovered from the heat I was disappointed with the overall flavor. Take away the chiles and you’re left with a soupy sauce that could’ve been any number of dishes. And the beef cubes could’ve been anything. Cardboard, perhaps. So I won’t be recommending Alpineaire Foods Kung Pao Beef. Unless you just want to melt your throat.

First day wearing shorts in 2021

I couldn’t go all the way to Los Angeles without putting in some beach time. Saturday and Sunday were rather windy, lowering the temperature enough so that it wasn’t all that enjoyable. But today was excellent. And being a weekday, there were no crowds. I was able to walk several miles along the beach without needing to dodge anyone. Very peaceful.

One thing spoiling the experience a little was the dozens of cargo ships anchored off shore, waiting their turns at the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach.