Ever Had An Epiphany?

Carson City, Nevada




We’re parked across the street from a little casino. This morning we had breakfast there and looked at the slots and early morning players. One of our cable channels is very X-rated. You’d think they would let you ride a motorcycle here without a helmet, but they don’t.

We had our mail Fed-exed here for $54 (overnight guaranteed delivery from Florida). I paid a few doctor bills that have been following us since last winter and signed up for a new health care insurance policy to supplement our Medicare insurance. They gave us 13 choices. It’s all very complex. I’m glad I’m a sharp CPA and still have a few of my wits about me.

We dropped off the RV for an oil change and to repair the dash air-conditioner again. We had it fixed by a Fleetwood dealer in Las Vegas two weeks ago and the fix didn’t last until our taillights lost sight of Vegas.

After changing the oil on the Toyota and getting it washed, we got a call that the RV was ready. They found a solder joint with a hole that allowed the A/C coolant to leak out. The last repair was free under warranty, but we had to wait for two days and pay for a hotel. Sometimes it’s best to just pay someone who actually has an expertise on a specific problem. Free is not always best. It doesn’t help at all that Fleetwood is undergoing bankruptcy.

Because of taxes, cigarettes and gasoline are much cheaper in Nevada than California, so we are filling the RV tank again (the first time in three weeks) and stocking up on smokes before heading to the Lassen Volcanic National Park and Redwood Parks in California.

We met Steve last week in Bishop. He pays $850 to license his RV in California. We only pay $40 in Florida, but California is bankrupt again. Arnold Swartzenhegger, the Governator, is directing the State Controller to begin issuing IOUs instead of checks starting tomorrow. Once again the State is the bleeding edge, establishing trends that others will follow.

We lucked out and booked a reservation in Trinidad, California for the 4th of July weekend. It’s on the coast near the Redwood National Park. Maybe we’ll stay a little longer and revisit San Francisco. We haven’t been there since the Summer of Love. I bet it has changed a little in the last 42 years.

I remember walking on the Sausalito beach in the sunshine with Mrs. Phred and holding her hand. We had just driven over the Golden Gate bridge in my green TR4-A. I had a epiphany that life was never going to get any better than being 23, in San Francisco, in love. I was right.

It’s 3,500 miles from here to Anchorage. Will Mrs. Phred give the OK?