A Report from the Mobile Man Cave-

The Mobile Man Cave had a previous incarnation as a family vehicle for my sister and her family. When I met the MMC (Mobile Man Cave) it was sitting in their driveway. I asked about it, and not much later she had sold it to me. I do still owe her a bit, and will be delighted to complete payment when the house sells in a couple of weeks.

The home sale is another story. The MMC has been more of an office and personal retreat for me, since preparing for the move has left little time for road adventures. One is soon coming, however, when we hand over the keys to the house and hit the road. The MMC, my dog Bernard and I shall head once again North to Medford, Oregon, from whence the MMC had come.

The MMC had previously been a seven passenger vehicle. It has since become a RV suitable for one person, and currently can easily accommodate only the driver and two passengers. The rear bench seat is folded down into a bed. I have a twin sized mattress on that bed, which leaves a bit of room being used for storage. Mostly plastic crates holding clothes, books, food, and miscellaneous items.

The left passenger seat in the center of the van holds a plastic dresser sort of thing. This holds underwear, socks, and various items I often need to access. In front of that seat sits a toilet. This is one of those bed-side hospital toilets. On top of that is my water jug and a waste basket. Below them is a container serving as a urinal.

Below the back seat/bed are plastic containers holding a lot of other necessary items. In the far back is a basket of tools, a basket of clothing and miscellaneous items, extra propane cylinders in an air-tight container, and a folding camp chair. Accessible from the middle of the van is a bin of higene intems, a bin of useful hardware (including extra batteries), and a bin of cleaning supplies. Two buckets are also under that seat.

The other center seat is my office chair. I am sitting there now, writing on my netbook which rests on a folding table.

The drivers seat and front passenger seat remain pretty much as intended. Between them is a power storage system, and a bucket that contains my catalytic heater and currently holds up my fan. I am running on electrical power from the house right now, and the power line comes in through the passenger window and is split on a power strip.

My laundry bag sits on the front passenger seat, and my binoculars hang there should I need them. I also have a barbecue of sorts on the floor in front of the front passenger seat. On the drivers seat sit a bus tray filled with a number of items I have not yet put away.

My rear curtain and curtain between the driver's section and the living quarters are made from Army blankets. My privacy is protected by the built-in curtains in most windows.

Since I am using electrical power right now I have also added an electric lamp. This will certainly save on batteries. When not on "shore power" I use the LED lamps I have acquired. Both use very little power and the batteries last a long time. One is a Northwest Territories standing flashlight, the other a head light held onto my forehead by straps. They have proved to be quite adequate.

I have some plans for the future. Since this is intended as a camping vehicle and the base for many future road adventures I am considering removing the front passenger seat. In its place I would like to build more storage, and a platform on which a camera tripod can be mounted. A video camera could then be used to record travels in real-time.

This modification would also provide more leg-room when I am sitting in my office chair. Perhaps a little table could fold out to hold a computer near the driver's seat, to provide a navigation resource. Alternatively, navigation instruments and a back-up camera monitor could be mounted there.

This vehicle is still water-tight and mechanically sound. I look forward to seeing how long I can keep it on the road, and what adventures we might have together. I also have some other camping configurations in mind for other vehicles, should I have the opportunity to explore and experiment a bit along that line.

I am certainly having fun with this, and hope to get out and do some exploring in the near future. Until next time, then.

Deep Space Nine-

I love the Star Trek franchise. The original series, The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine. Even Voyager, though it had some issues. I finished viewing the whole NG (Next Generation) a while back. Recently I finished DS9 (Deep Space Nine.) It is always a bit emotional, reaching the end of a series, much like the ending of The Lord of the Rings. In both the book and the film it ends with Sam Gamgee saying, "Well, I'm back."  The bittersweet feeling I get at that point is similar to what I felt at the end of TNG and DS9.

There is a richness and depth to these long tales. Perhaps a sufficient separation from reality as I know it allows me to connect. I don't particularly like cop stories, or social commentary, or complex people stories, which are too much like real life. Problems in real life compel a compassion I haven't the resources to meet. It is overwhelming. In realms of science fiction and fantasy I can address my feelings associated with these all-to-real problems without the immediate connection to real life compelling me to do something.

Why not do something? I am possessed by a spirit of vengeance. Not a demonic type possession. It is just a part of my nature. In another era I might have been a knight errant taking up the cause of the downtrodden, or something of the sort. Someone behaving like that today would simply be placed in prison, and rightly so. to go out as an agent of vengeance would accomplish little, and I have spent too much time in jail (wearing a badge.)

In events when someone is victimize here in the real world I do feel compassion for the victim. However, I am not the one drawn to their side, offering aid. Others are better equipped to do that. I feel compelled to seek out and find the villain, the victimizer. Seek them out, and visit justice upon them by my own hand. Oh, I don't do this, of course. There are systems in place to see to the exercise of justice. Sterile, impersonal systems, but they are probably better for that absence of passion.

So, I enjoy the richness of these tales, the spectacle of the images that support the illusion of life in space, and the openness of the unexplored frontier. I also have a fondness for old time cowboy movies that have the same sense of frontier adventure, but those are tales from a time now past. The placement of tales in the future  contributes an essential flavor of possibility. The dead past, even the fantasy cowboy past, is devoid of such possibility. It can only lead to now.

So, it is off to space, the final frontier. DS9 managed to use that great stage to present some very interesting tales, and develop some quite interesting characters. Some explored political associations and the complexity of those relationships. Others were character tales, or tales of growing relationships. A few were even exploration of the very idea of writing and producing tales of life on a space station far from Earth.

I have begun the Voyager series, to complete my viewing of the Star Trek franchise. Some hold DS9 to be the pinnacle of the Star Trek adventures. I must grant that there is a temptation to take such a position. However, I don't see the need to compare the original series to Next Generation to DS9 to Voyager. They are all available to enjoy for their own contributions.

It is truly a delight to live in an era where many things Star Trek have not only come into being, but are sometimes superior to the dreams of those writers who created tomorrow over the course of decades. Vacuous Valley Girls routinely use technologies superior to those impossible dreams presented in the original series, and even subsequent and more modern Star Trek iterations. The future comes fast, these days, and seems to belong to everyone.

How long until Star Trek in it's entirety is old and dated as a cowboy matinée feature? Who can tell? The future is coming so fast that I can barely see for the temporal wind in my eyes. We shall hopefully be surprised and delighted by how it all turns out.

Live long, and prosper. \\//

Regarding ebooks-

I just posted a blog on ebooks over on my short story blog. I didn't want to post twice, when I could do this little reference thing. I have different followers on the two blogs, and thought everyone might want to read my pro-ebook ramblings.

We hope to have the house sold in the coming weeks, and make the move to Medford, Oregon. Once settled I hope to get back to writing again. I have missed it, and amazingly some of you have, as well.

An End to Prohibition-

Around 1917 the U.S. government established some comprehensive regulations regarding the possession, use and access to drugs. Bodies such as The Women's Christian Temperance Union reacted to abuses of drugs and alcohol, gained influence, and the net result was a ban on the recreational use of drugs. In effect, the government was acting to protect citizens from themselves and their own choices.

Subsequent to this regulation was a ban on the manufacture, use and possession of alcohol. Again, influenced by such bodies as the temperance movement, this was government acting to protect people from their own choices by eliminating those choices and criminalizing certain behaviors.

A consequence of this regulation and restriction of individual choices was the rapid expansion of criminal forces to take advantage of a demand without a supply. Criminal suppliers of drugs and alcohol became wealthy, and the battle for that wealth was increasingly violent.

The regulation of drugs was separate from the ban on alcohol. When the overall cost of the ban on alcohol became too great, the public accepted a return to a moderately regulated system through which alcohol might be made, sold, and possessed for consumption. The regulation and restriction on drugs continued, and the general ban on recreational use of drugs has continued to this day.

For a time the illegal use of drugs continued to fuel a criminal economy which was content to remain in the background. Good people simply did not go to the side of town where drugs were sold and used, and the violence of that drug culture was largely ignored.

In the decade of the 1960's the use of drugs expanded from these dark realms. College campuses became another place where drug use was common, and a "rebellious" youth bent on exploring all aspects of life brought those drugs and their purveyors into environments previously unsullied by such "filth."

This was certainly not a problem for the criminal communities. Expanding their markets was quite appealing. Eventually even some of the rich and powerful were at least sometimes users. The taint of drug use colored entertainment, politics, and even the best of families. The fingers of the criminal organizations reached high and deep.

We are fast approaching the centennial of this failed effort to control the choices of citizens with regard to recreational drug use. The cost of enforcing these laws has become a huge burden on the society at large. Much of the enormous cost of incarcerating so many offenders is directly related to the illegal drug industry. Meanwhile, drug cartels have become so wealthy and powerful that they have camped literally on the borders of the United States, even taking control of entire towns in Northern Mexico.

Unless the U.S. government is willing to fight a real war on drugs, with real guns and bullets and death for multitudes, the only reasonable choice is legalization and a moderated system of regulation.

Consider the consequences. Drug cartels will immediately lose their vast wealth, and the motivation to continue in the drug market. Drugs will be regulated regarding mode of distribution and with regard to quality. The price of drugs will come down from the astronomical rates required by criminal distributors, and very few drug users will be compelled to steal or sell their bodies to secure this much more affordable substance.

The savings in enforcement cost and incarceration expenses can be applied to other services, to include expanded drug and alcohol awareness education. The choice as to whether or not use drugs would be returned to the individual, and the individual would not become a criminal for choosing to use drugs or alcohol.

Granted, there exists the possibility of some people who refrained from drug use due to the criminal aspect going ahead and now choosing to use drugs. There exists the possibility of an increase in antisocial behavior in some places at some times due to the reduced regulation and increased access. The degree is unknown, and predictions will remain speculations until the case is tested through a well planned and executed legalization of drugs.

I propose that the money saved in enforcing a failed drug management policy could be better spent in education and providing services to overcome such slight bumps in the road as I mentioned above. The legalization and reduced regulation is not a perfect answer to the problem. Indeed, the problem may be so deep seated in humans as humans that it cannot be fully overcome, by regulation or anything else created by human beings.

Even so, the present system enriches criminals, costs a great deal in a multitude of resources including human lives, and has accomplished little in the hundred years of regulation. Perhaps it is time to try something else. Something radical. Something that returns the dignity of choice to the individual regarding their own lives.

A Comedy of Errors, with lots of smoke...

I was sleeping in my van, out in the yard. Why I was sleeping in my van out in the yard is another story. As I said, I was sleeping. A knocking awoke me. I waited. Lot's of things might knock in the night. The knocking came again.

"Who is there?" I asked.

"Jon."

"What's up?" I asked. It had to be late, and my son Jon had no night knocking proclivities of which I was aware.

"Mom asked me to tell you the house is on fire."

I lay there a moment.

"Is the house on fire?" I asked.

"It was. Everyone is outside while the smoke clears."

I decided I needed to get up. I did so, and wandered to the front porch where the whole family was gathered.

To tell the rest of the story, we need to go back to early evening. I sat at my computer, and my wife Linda sat at hers. There was a bang outside, and the lights went out. Our computers were both on battery back up systems, so we started to shut them down as family members found each other in the dark. Flashlights came on, a few candles were lit. Soon the computers were shut down, along with the modem and the wifi router.

That part about the modem and router will prove important, later.

Beth, my daughter, had started boiling water for spaghetti. I went and got the camp stove from the shed, and set it up on the stove top. It is one of those electric glass top stoves. The rest of the kitchen was in disorder, as we were in the middle of renovations and the counter tops were covered with construction materials and dirty dishes. The stove top seemed a good place to set up the camp stove.

It was not.

We got the water boiling, cooked the noodles, got everybody fed. With the power out, there was little to do, and so everyone made their way to bed. As I noted before, I was using the van as a bedroom, and that is where I went.

Now, back to the front porch. It's about two in the morning, the power is back on, and everyone is on the porch. Here is how the events were related to me.

Linda awoke when the lights came back on. She started her computer, but could not get on the Internet. As I related, the modem and router were on another power line, and the back up supply was still turned off. Linda was not familiar with how this was set up, and not being able to connect she headed for the bathroom.

As she made her way down the hall, she observed billowing clouds of smoke up in the vaulted ceiling of the living room. She rushed to the kitchen, to find the camp stove burning on the stove top. None of us had made sure that the power switch for the electric burner was turned off. With all of the finding people in the dark and setting up camp, it had simply been overlooked.

Finding that she could not blow the fire out like a birthday candle, she ran back and awoke my son-in-law Dave. Beth awoke as well. Dave went to the kitchen to try and smother the fire. Beth remembered the fire extinguisher, which she located and applied. By this time the house was full of smoke.

I am sure I am missing some of the details. I was sleeping in my van at the time. Anyway, everyone was awakened and moved out of the house as windows were thrown open and fans started and the elimination of smoke begun. Then Jon was dispatched to awaken his father, who was sleeping in the van.

That's me, by the way.

What had burned on the camp stove were two plastic feet. The ones sitting on the burner that had not been turned off, but we did not know that because the power was out. Fortunately, nothing else had become involved. Had my wife been able to connect to the Internet, she would not have made the discovery when she did. The house may have become involved in the fire, and things would have become very unpleasant.

Linda declares Divine Providence. I do, as well, but I also think we were lucky. I am convinced that God has incorporated an element of luck in the whole Providence thing, just to make things interesting.

So, what have we learned, Dorothy? I don't think I will use the stove top as a counter space from now on. That was dumb. Also, in the event of a power outage I think I will be checking the status of stoves and other things that may cause a fire. Finding and accounting for everyone in the confusion caused this critical oversight. That cannot be allowed to happen again.

It was quite possible that I would have awakened to find most of my family gone, literally up in smoke. I am very thankful that such was not the case. I am rather fond of them, and they still seem willing to put up with me after all of these years. Even if I insist in sleeping in a van.

Why was I sleeping in the van? That will have to be another story.

A Soldier Serves His Country-

Some time back I was watching a program on the History Channel. The footage being displayed was of the taking of the Pacific Islands held by the Japanese, late in the war. U.S. forces were using flamethrowers, pouring flaming death down the throats of the caves which the Japanese soldiers were using as fortresses. These were some of the most hard fought battles of World War II in the Pacific.

I wept for those Japanese soldiers. They had answered the call of their country, and whatever my perspective on how justified or unjustified that call may have been, they served the nation of their origin. I wept for the horrible death that rained down upon them. It was a horrible spectacle.

I also wept for the soldiers manning those flamethrowers. A dangerous task, and a horrible thing to do to another human being. Yes, they were raining death down upon the enemy of the United States. They as soldiers had also answered the call of their nation, and found themselves far from home doing what was necessary, but still horrible. The memory of such acts cannot be easy to bear.

The soldier is the edge of the sword of his or her nation. A sword does not select its target. A sword does the will of the one who wields it. The task of the sword is to be a sword, as the task of the soldier is to be a soldier. The honor of the sword and the honor of the soldier is the same. Like the honor of a sword, the honor of the soldier is not defined by the one who wields the weapon. The honor is in faithful service.

War is glorified beyond reason. Though sometimes necessary, it is always regrettable. Fancy parades and uniforms and marching bands are grand and wonderful things, but it always comes down to raining flaming death down upon other human beings. Even those who survive are often scarred beyond any real healing.

On this Memorial Day we honor the sacrifice of those who have served this Great Nation. That is good, and right, and honorable. I suggest that those of us who can reach beyond that, and remember that those who stood against us were soldiers as well. Perhaps a degree of honor and respect is due them, as well. They answered the call, and served.

A friend of mine served in the taking of those islands in World War II. He was wounded in two separate assaults. In one assault the Americans fought all the way to the highest point on that particular island. The Japanese defended to the end. Few Japanese survived.

Many, many years later this friend visited that same island, and stood in a memorial park at that last defense. There, quite by accident, he met one of those few Japanese defenders. They shook hands and had pictures taken of their meeting. They honored one another.

A soldier serves his country. I honor those who serve.

A Report from the Mobile Man Cave-

I have been playing with the Mobile Man Cave a bit as we prepare for our move from Felton, California to Medford, Oregon. My air mattress finally failed after sleeping on it for a week or so. These Northwest Territories air mattresses are cheap, but really don't last long. I used them in my truck tent over the course of a year, and got about six weeks total use out of each one. The only saving grace for these cheap items was the Kmart 90 day warranty. I just kept trading them in over the course of that year, and by virtue of that got good value.

In preparing to move we found ourselves with a surplus twin sized mattress. I managed to fit it into the sleeping area of the Man Cave, and it is working well. The right rear captains seat in the mid-section of the MMC (Mobile Man Cave, or van) is pushed all the way forward, and when sleeping I tilt it forward as well to clear foot space at the end of the bed.

The MMC has been serving truck duty during the day. We pack our stuff in boxes, I put the boxes Tetris-like into the MMC, and drive over to the storage area. We have a five foot by fifteen foot storage area to assist in getting things cleared out for selling the house. Once there I again play Tetris, trying to fit as much stuff into the space as I can.

At night I have been sleeping in the MMC, getting a feel for how to make it a suitable road home for travel. For a number of nights I have had neck pains and disrupted sleep. I finally determined that the vehicle being out of level was the problem. I looked for a solution on the Internet, and found several ideas. The one I adopted was making two ramps out of scrap wood.

By placing the ramps in front of the appropriate wheels and driving carefully forward, the van can be adjusted in angle. The present angle is still not really level, but has greatly improved sleep and general comfort. These first ramps are a bit bulky to carry on trips, but I think I can refine them and come up with a workable solution.

Our house is located in a wooded area, and my parking space was carved out of a portion of our property and not particularly level. This has provided a good camping simulation for testing and refining the MMC. Yes, it is a strange thing to do, camping in the yard like a kid. It has also been a lot of fun.

I considered a built in desk or table for my mid-section living space. Target had the best price on a table, so when opportunity arose to go there I went table hunting. Instead I found a TV tray sold as a single item, built firm enough for the task. I am using this folding "table" right now. It is just adequate for a netbook and mouse, though the surface is not laser-mouse friendly. I need to get a mouse pad.

During this period of reducing-storing-resurfacing in our house, preparing for a sale, I have grumbled about the number of items everyone was keeping for the sake of sentiment. I had been diligent to slash my library, my most prized treasures, even trying to sell my Centennial Dicken's collection. I got rid of a lot of stuff, and could not understand the reticence of other family members to do the same.

Then I sold my Warhammer miniatures. I met a fellow gamer and sold my toys. I experienced a terrible emotional wrenching. I thought at first it was from selling them cheaply to make a quick sale. No, that was not it. I realized then that I had a huge emotional investment in these toys. I had collected them, painted them, customized them, designed armies and played games with them.

I am now a bit more understanding regarding the emotional connection with "stuff." That being said, I did sell my toys and replaced them with a practical pocket hard drive for my netbook. A Toshiba 320 gig drive. Very practical. Light. Easy to move. Unlike my wife's crockery.

Oops! There I go again.

I still need a heat source for the MMC, other than running the engine. Several camp heaters seem well designed, with plenty of safety features to make them good choices. At present my blankets and warm clothing are sufficient. I don't plan any hard winter camping, but I still want to get this thing as complete and self-contained as possible.

My plans for travel adventures around our Central California area never came to pass, largely due to not having the MMC until recently and not having a lot of surplus money. The purpose of this move to Oregon is to liberate some of the equity in the house and reduce expenses so that our income goes further. Hopefully, this will provide some money for travel adventures.

So, my adventure target will change. I have been looking at maps of the Southern Oregon/Northern California areas. Plenty of adventure there, I must say. However, a new day is beginning in our Adventure In Moving, and I need to get to doing something constructive for making that move happen.

This has been another report from the Mobile Man Cave. Stay tuned for further adventures.