WHEN THE END IS A BEGINNING

THE END OF WHAT? The story or a chapter?

Here's the short version: I wanted to see if the rumors are true--Airstream travel trailers are in short supply and high demand; so, people are willing to pay a big price for one. Turns out the stories are true. I came up with a price based on some significant numbers for us--a price that was also beyond what I thought anyone would pay. The next day it was sold.

Having an Airstream has been wonderful, but that was for a season. Want to hear something crazy? We were visiting with a lady while delivering our Airstream to its new owner. She has a vintage Airstream that "might be for sale." What's the word I'm looking for? Tempting? Crazy? Unsurprising?

I belong to a group called "Airstream Addicts". Maybe it is an addiction. There is something about those silvery, capsule-shaped, adventures-on-wheels that gets in your blood. Wanderlust is real.

Stay tuned.

Reflecting on the journey... I've been looking back through photos and reading old journal entries. Here are the highlights of our Airstream adventure for me.

FRIENDSHIPS

We have met people we never would have met without the Airstream. Airstreamers are a tight-knit group and prone to a healthy-elitism or maybe it's tribal pride. For example, for these folks there are two categories of travel trailers: Airstreams and SOBs (Some Other Brand). Early on we joined a group called "Air Midwest," an Airstream rally club of folks mainly from Missouri, Illinois, Kansas, Arkansas, Louisiana and Oklahoma. The thing I love about the Airstream community is that it is extremely diverse and people manage for the most part to leave politics outside the campground and do what they do best: tell great stories, share amazing food, laugh out loud, all the while sitting around the campfire as it reflects off of the circle of shiny Airstreams.

FORCED SOCIALIZATION

As a hardcore introvert the Airstream has been good for me. The mixing and mingling at a campground is not only good for making friends that I never would have ventured to know. Pulling an Airstream also starts conversations that might go something like this:

[at the gas pump with the trailer hooked behind]
GUY AT NEXT PUMP: Airstream? Wonder if they still make those?
ME: Yes, they do.
GANP: Are they expensive?
ME: Cheaper than a ride on a Jeff Bezos rocket.
GANP: Mind if I look inside?
ME: Sure.
GANP: No slide out?
ME: Nope.
GANP: Bet you coulda bought a motorhome with a couple of slide outs for what this cost.
ME: Have a nice day.

See, I wouldn't have had those random conversations and social interactions without the AS.

QUARANTINE ESCAPE

Our Airstream provided a mobile bubble during the Covid quarantine. We had our own bathroom, bedroom, kitchen and lounge. We could join other campers and social distance around the campfire in the great outdoors.

This wasn't the first time an Airstream was called into quarantine duty. Buzz Aldrin, Neil Armstrong and Michael Collins spent quarantine time in an Airstream after returning from the moon on Apollo 11 in 1969.

ADVENTURES

We have now owned two Airstreams: a little 16-footer called Bambi. Next we moved to a little more room in a 23-footer named LUM NUM. It's a play on a word. When people ask what the Airstream is made of, like a good Okie, I answer, "Lumnum". Between the two we've logged over 30,000 miles of adventures on America's highways and byways. We've been through heat, hail and high winds; cold, snow and ice. We evacuated to shelter during a tornado warning and rode it out during an earthquake. Turns out an Airstream is a great place to be during an earthquake. It just bounces a bit, just like it does going across Oklahoma's lousy highways.

KNOWLEDGE & UNDERSTANDING

I saw a sign in Alva on a recent visit to see our kids and grandkids: "Geology rocks but geography is where it's at!" We've learned about both. We've learned history, We've learned some physics and chemistry, and lived in the midst of sociology and anthropology. We have been awestruck by the sublime. We have wondered and wandered.

WANDERLUST

Two of my personal core values are curiosity and creativity. They are life givers and fuel the fires of wanderlust. Two things I fear in life are stagnation and squandering the opportunities of each day. Airstreams were born out of the wanderlust of a man named Wally Byam, a study in creativity. I know it will be possible to stay curious and creative without an Airstream, but I am so grateful for the time we spent in ours. It provided a challenge and motivation somehow to experience life a bit larger.

AN INSTAGRAMABLE LIFE

I'm 70-something. I should be old enough to not care about "social media" but the fact is that I really enjoy seeing the posts of people who share their curiosities and creativity with a camera, a brush, a needle and thread, a van, a bus, or an Airstream. And to be totally honest I do find it nice when someone "likes" a photo I post. The Airstream provided a source of content and an entry into that world with a dash of hipness-- [an old man driving a gas-guzzling pickup truck... I use it to pull our Airstream... OH, you have an Airstream! I would love to have an Airstream and a gas-guzzling pickup to tow it.]

THE OPPORTUNITY TO LIVE SOMEWHERE ELSE (for a brief time)

Especially early in our travels we could travel somewhere and spend enough time to experience the cultural quilt that is America. We could visit local places, eat local foods, learn a little about the stories of what makes this place or that place so unique and valuable.

The Airstream provided a base camp for living in the midst of it all beyond the typical tourist stops. Once people discovered the opportunity for RVing as an escape from the pandemic, RV parks and campgrounds began to fill up. Prices increased and the paradigm shifted. Still, with careful planning way ahead it' a great way to go.

WE DID IT TOGETHER

The best part of our Airstream life was that we did it together. We were a team. We would pull into a camping spot late afternoon or early evening. I would do the outside routine: unhook from the truck, level, stabilize, hookup that kind of stuff. By the time I would finish and go inside, My Amazing-Missus would have our little home all set up and we would sit down for tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. She might work on a sewing project. I might read/sleep or go outside to start a fire. Occasionally I would go to a quilt store with her and occasionally she would go to a minor league baseball game with me. Often our most interesting stops and memories made were totally spontaneous. Just like life.

WHAT'S NEXT

I don't know. I just know I want to do it together--with her, with our sons and beautiful daughters (in-law) and our seven phenomenal grandkids.

SIDE BY SIDE

USING TRAILER PARLANCE AS METAPHOR, we’ve been hitched for a few years now. Both of us, my Amazing-Missus and I, are from the Tulsa area—she, just from the south of Jenks; me, just north of Jenks. We met in Bixby.

The insightful C.S. Lewis, as far as I know, never visited Jenks or Bixby, but he did have some keen wisdom on relationships:

“Those who cannot conceive Friendship as a substantive love but only as a disguise or elaboration of Eros betray the fact that they have never had a Friend. The rest of us know that though we can have erotic love and friendship for the same person yet in some ways nothing is less like a Friendship than a love-affair. Lovers are always talking to one another about their love; Friends hardly ever about their Friendship. Lovers are normally face to face, absorbed in each other; Friends, side by side, absorbed in some common interest.” —C.S. Lewis. The Four Loves.

Let’s talk about some of the side-by-side stuff. Early in our marriage we discovered one of our favorite places to eat together was Coney-Islander, a little hot dog joint native to Tulsa. (By “little hot dog” I’m talking about the size of the establishment and also the size of their coneys. They are adorable.) It is still our favorite. It started in 1926, and in all these years, hasn’t changed much. I hope Coney-Islander doesn’t hire one of those new fangled UX specialists to “take the company to the next level”. Their level is just fine. At Coney-Islander, you sit on the same side of the booth, side-by-side. This is so you can work out the Weekly Scramble on the old blackboard on the wall. It’s a C-I tradition.

We often spend weekends in Tulsa. We’ve found a great place in mid-town where we can park our Airstream. It’s close to some of our favorite side-by-side type places: the Circle Cinema, a throwback art-movie theatre; Tulsa University, a Coney-Islander, and a short drive to downtown where you’ll find the arts district, Glacier Chocolates, Guthrie Green, Antionette Baking Company, Spinster Records and Driller Stadium, all good places for side-by-side moments.

There is a mix of blessings to traveling in an Airstream: people want to talk about it and “take a quick peek inside.” Recently we were hitched up and leaving Tulsa for Shawnee, where we were to attend a very special event—a birthday party for a five year old. Often, as we leave Tulsa, our route is via Peoria Avenue, through the narrow streets of Brookside to a Coney-Islander, before getting on the highway out of town. As I pulled into the parking lot on this particular Saturday, I noticed a fancy Mercedes following closely. Before I could hardly get out of the truck, there was a woman who looked like she had just come from the Lululemon store up the street, or the hair extension store somewhere nearby. “Can I please droll over your Airstream!?” (Her actual words.)

Sure, I say. I’ll be inside drooling over “a couple of coneys with everything.” (That’s how you order them.) She’s holding her phone in the air and explains to us that she has her boyfriend on FaceTime so he can take the tour as well. My Amazing-Missus graciously hosted the tour while I went into the air-conditioned Coney-Islander to wait. As I watched her walk toward the diner from the Airstream after the tour, I saw it all as a tableau of sorts or an Edward Hopper painting (but far less forlorn)—that silver trailer, this little hotdog joint, and her; walking from one to the other. Not to over-romanticize it, but it was glimpse of a magical side-by-side life together. Our travels: together, our favorite things to do: together, our memories: together, and our future: together.

And then I thought, I hope that if Miss Yogapants and her FaceTime friend find themselves in an Airstream someday they will have great side-by-side adventures too. Like the old song says:

Oh, we ain't got a barrel of money
Maybe we're ragged and funny
But we'll travel along, singin' a song
Side by side
Don't know what's comin' tomorrow
Maybe it's trouble and sorrow
But we'll travel the road, sharin' our load
Side by side
Through all kinds of weather
What if the sky should fall
Just as long as we're together
It doesn't matter at all
When they've all had their quarrels and parted
We'll be the same as we started
Just travelin' along, singin' our song
Side by side

---

Here’s a Coney-Islander Weekly Scramble for you. Sorry I don’t have a coney for you to enjoy while you try to figure it out. If you just can’t quite work it out, email me and I’ll send you the answer. hey.pops.hey@gmail.com.

P.S.: No Googling for the answer. You’ll hate yourself in the morning if you do.

Road Questions

ONE OF THE THINGS ABOUT TRAVELING IN AN AIRSTREAM—people want to ask you about traveling in an Airstream. For people like My Amazing-Missus this is all fine and dandy. She genuinely enjoys visiting with others and they with her. Me too; on a case-by-case basis.

airstreaming in red rock canyon state park, hinton, oklahoma

Recently we were camped in a beautiful park on a beautiful day. I looked outside and no one was around. So, I decided to lubricate the gaskets around the Airstream’s windows. A car pulled up and a gentleman got out. I’m guessing he was a bit older than me. He started with the most oft-asked questions of the Airstream-curious:

1.) Are they still making these?
2.) How long is this? (Remind me to tell you that joke I made up in the category of “does size matter?”)
3.) How much does something like this cost (if you don’t mind me asking)?

He looked familiar. Turns out we were acquaintances years ago. I had heard that his lovely wife had been diagnosed with dementia and is now in a nursing home.

He told me that years ago the two of them had dreamed of having an Airstream and seeing the country. That’s why he had stopped to take a look at ours—just to reminisce a bit.

He asked if we were traveling full-time. I told him not yet, that I was still working. He said, “Go to work Monday and tell them you’re retiring. Don’t delay. You never know what tomorrow holds.”

Is this a sign, I wondered. Is he a prophet of some kind?

It’s not like we’re just sitting around. We’re out there. Seeing the sights. Seeking adventure. I’ve taken the sage wisdom of Ferris Bueller to heart:

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. (from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off)

Remember that girl, the one from the Beatle’s song: “She was a day tripper, a Sunday driver yeah…”

For now we’re day trippers; long weekend trippers at best. But we’re moving, we’re going, so we can stop. and look around.

Remember that guy, the one from the Beatle’s song, the one they called the “nowhere man”? Funny thing. I used to see him as a sad, aimless, clueless, hopeless shell of a person. But now I feel like I sort of get him.

He's a real nowhere man
Sitting in his nowhere land
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody
Doesn't have a point of view
Knows not where he's going to
Isn't he a bit like you and me?
Nowhere man please listen
You don't know what you're missing
Nowhere man, The world is at your command
He's as blind as he can be
Just sees what he wants to see
Nowhere man, can you see me at all?

Maybe he is a bit like you and me.

Oh yeah, my joke. An old guy and his Amazing-Missus walk in to an Airstream dealer.
Walt (the rv sales guy): How can I be of assistance to you folks today?
Me: We’re thinking of buying an Airstream.
Walt: Great plan! How long do you want it?
Me: A long time. We’re planning on traveling across the country and back again.

It's not you; it's us

In a moment that was surprisingly emotional, I stood at Bambi’s side and admitted that we had been looking around, dreaming of another. We’ve been together for two years and she has been nothing but wonderful to us. But, it’s time to move on.

The words are hard to type, but here it is: our beloved Bambi is For sale. There. I’ve said it.

The only thing that makes this easier is that I know she will make some other people very, very happy.

To try to explain the WHY of this decision, only makes me seem more shallow and selfish. The fact is that we have enjoyed our Bambi adventures so much, that we’re ready for more. So we’re shopping for a larger Airstream. While Bambi is perfect for weekend getaways, as we just discovered on a ten-day, 2,000 mile road trip, we need a bit more room and capacity for the longer roads.

As people selling pets always say, she’s for sale to “A good home.” I mean that with all seriousness. I would sell her only to someone whom I was certain would take meticulous care of her.

In the spirit of full disclosure, in case you’re already dreaming of your first adventure with Bambi, let me warn you there is a downside to traveling with her (especially if you’re a confirmed introvert): you will seldom stop for gas, or at a roadside park for lunch, or at a campground that you won’t have someone who comes over to you to ask questions about this little, silvery wonder. They’ll want a “peek” inside, and usually they want to know how much she cost (yes people actually ask that). I’ll always tell them she cost far less than she is worth because she is a magnificent memory-making machine.

Relative to other travel trailers, Airstreams are expensive, and Bambi is no exception. She is very rare in that she has a lot of extra equipment you won’t find on other’s of her model. She doesn’t have a single scratch or ding and she has been wonderfully cared for. She just made a trip back to the factory where she was built in Jackson Center, Ohio, for a complete checkup. She is in tip-top shape.

So, if you’re ready to wander, or know someone who is, let me know: hey.pops.hey@gmail.com. As they say: “serious inquiries only”.