Overdo Rant

A rant this as I have little else to write about. After 45,000 miles and 3 years it’s a strange feeling to feel uncomfortable in one’s own home. I’ve lived in the same Condo apartment for over 3 decades but these days my RV has become home. Somehow it’s unsettling to know you have something but not remember where you placed it three years back. There’s more space in the bedroom of my two-storey apartment than my entire motorhome so I’m suddenly feeling somewhat exposed. And then there’s the almost constant annoyance of discovering that items one uses every day are somewhere else.

 

After surviving the border crossing at Detroit/Windsor I made it to the one campground open this time of year east of London Ontario and found no one in charge. Hung around a few days as I had no desire to drive in gusting crosswinds. Managed to get caught up online as once home I have no regular internet connection and no phone. At least the security system let me in the door and the keys to my apartment worked.

 

Wading through  six month’s mail is tedious. Appointments with two banks and three doctors relieved by pleasant relationships. Visits to various shops and the licence bureau mundane. Catching up on old acquaintances bittersweet. Returning to all the maintenance items I left behind me when I escaped on my four tires irksome and wearing.

 

On my way from Windsor drove by the Norfolk Dump which has decided to refuse further garbage from Toronto. I recognized it from the earthen wall on the north side of the highway and the trail of plastic bags stuck in the trees south of the highway.

 

Just brought up the loaf of ‘brown bread’ I purchased over a month ago and am marvelling  at the fact that 30 days past its best before date there’s no sign of mould. What witch’s brew of chemicals does it contain that it does not mould? Furthermore what food value can there be in a product that cannot support such growth. Still on the subject of food having recently restarted my apartment fridge and turned off my RV to defrost it occurs to me to wonder how anyone survived before such modern conveniences. Hygienists recommend that food be refrigerated or thrown out within two hours of preparation. What would they have to say about pease porridge in a pot nine days old?

 

Crime is down across North America because the 16-32 demographic which commits the bulk of violent crime is at an all-time low. At the same time the number of people having reached retirement age is out-numbering those still working to support them to an alarming degree. It recently came to light that even the mighty Ontario Teacher’s fund is laying out 1.8 Billion more  than it earns per year; what does that say for smaller plans? Pesky seniors are living too long. Actuarial tables are going to be seriously revised.

 

Having read War, Sebastian Junger’s tale of being embedded with troops in Afghanistan and watched Restrepo, the video documentary of the same encounter it was with some sadness I read of the death in Libya of Ted Hetherington, the photographer who shot it. Yet another reporter killed in the line of fire.

 

After rewatching several day’s worth of favourite DVD’s Malthus Law of Diminishing Returns begins to set in. There is little likelihood, however, of my ever running out of books to read in my library. Having invoked Sebastian Junger I have moved on to the author Linda Greenlaw, the other swordboat captain in The Perfect Storm. The notoriety generated by the book and subsequent film persuaded her to take up pen and publish The Hungry Ocean, which details a one-month fishing trip to the grand banks.

 

Somewhere in Southern Ohio I outran Spring and to date it has yet to arrive in Ontario. Out East the Maritimes have had the coldest April on record. At the same time gasoline prices are reaching toward new highs. What can I say? Guess I’m going to have to cope with my issues here at home for a while. Life is quiet here, Harry would find me too old for an invite to the all-nighter he pulled at Buckingham Palace and I would lack the stamina for such an event in any case. Some pad to throw a party though.