I grew up in Elkhart, Indiana, the mobile home capital of the world. The industry has never really gotten much respect, despite providing affordable housing and recreational opportunities. A friend of mine bought several acres of farm land to build a country home, but has been forced to live in a manufactured home that came with the property. It was in such bad shape that they chose to live in the barn until it was thoroughly sanitized, fumigated, and painted. It will still be awhile until they can build their dream home and in the meantime have remodeled the barns, extensive garage, and vehicle stalls to accommodate a collection of family heirlooms.
I’m framing this humorous poem as a housewarming gift, so they will always remember their life together in a mobile home or trailer – probably the last place they would have ever envisioned living. Fortunately, they have a sense of humor. At least, I hope so….
Tindle Trailer
Call it manufactured,
Or double-wide.
It’s a mobile dwelling,
Where Tindles abide.
Was it a meth lab?
Or redneck haven?
It’s certainly not,
Worth even savin’.
On first inspection,
A scary space.
Could have been,
A junkie’s place.
At first, the barn,
Had more appeal.
But elbow grease,
Gave a homey feel.
A clean bathroom,
And coat of paint.
With a log on the fire,
It’s cozy and quaint.
Wheels or not,
It’s temporary.
For Matt and Rebecca,
Occasionally Perry.
With all the projects,
They’ve been dealt.
It’s fortunate that she,
Wears a tool belt.
Cars and a pump,
Family heirlooms.
Arts and crafts,
Many storage rooms.
Neon lights,
Tractor signs.
Hub caps, Golf clubs,
Other precious finds.
Construction plans,
A mountain view.
Land to lease,
A life anew.
Green Acres,
Trash now treasure.
To tear it down,
Will be their pleasure.
In the meantime,
Don’t come knockin’
Especially when,
The trailer’s rockin’
copyright 2021 johnstonwrites.com
If it weren’t for spam I would be lonely. No one would call or even write. As it is, however, I get too much unwanted attention with at least a dozen daily attempts to extend my warranty, get more benefits from Medicare, or offer insurance discounts. Occasionally, there’s even some porn. My phone now tells me if it’s potential spam, but this has also caused me to block-out welcome callers. With everyone blocked, I now know that all my calls are spam.
Today is an early Leadership Zoom call, as we reflect on the sorry state of I.U. basketball, struggling business, home improvement updates, and how much we miss live music. Another “Archie Miller must go” e-mail got through my spam filter. He should just resign and save us all a lot of money. It will take years now to restore “The Glory of Old I.U.” I give up on this season and will focus all my energy on fighting spam.
Spam
I’d be lonely,
If it weren’t for Spam.
People who think,
I give a damn.
No one would write,
Or even call.
It seems these days,
No one cares at all.
When the phone rings,
It’s Medicare.
Or Life Insurance,
So please beware.
Extend your warranty,
Buy a discount card.
Another unwanted call,
Always be on guard.
Blocking them all,
Just won’t matter.
With endless lines,
To spread their chatter.
Annoying offers,
They’ll never end.
They’ve got your number,
Or e-mail to send.
You’ll unsubscribe,
Until you’re blue.
Or text STOP,
Delete them, too.
But they’ll be back,
To bug you more.
They might even knock,
On your front door.
With everyone blocked.
All my calls are spam.
If you need to reach me,
Send a Telegram.
Copyright 2021 johnstonwrites.com
The sun is actually shining for the first time since Florida, a rare treat here in the Northwest. We call them “sun breaks,” those rare moments when they happen. People flock outside to see this wonder of nature. This morning it stayed out for the full hour I was breathing the fresh air. The rest of the day will be spent near my home office desk, with a couple of dog walks and dinner preparation. There’s not much on the calendar this week except a drive into wine country on Sunday with a forecast that promises partly sunny.
We concluded the Bridgerton series last night and watched the first half of the movie Chaplin after dinner. Little by little we’re finishing off half-empty bottles and cleaning out the food pantry in preparation for the cross-country move. I’ll soon be removing the pictures on the walls and patching any damage. My wife is also carefully organizing all the essential items we’ll carry in the car, including our dog Tally’s bed and care items. It will be the longest “ride in the car” she’s ever experienced. After a few days, I’m sure the thrill will wear off. She’s already done the route from Portland through Colorado but with her former travel companion Tinker. Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, and Florida will all be solo adventures for her. Her total states visited will be 18 by the time we get to our new home, surpassing the well-traveled Tinker.
We’ll finish off Chaplin tonight after I prepare dinner, once again cleaning out some freezer items. My wife continues meatless while I still have some frozen steaks left to finish. I will have to learn how to prepare fish, if I’m to once again cook for both of us, as was my once-a-week retirement pledge. We’ll have to completely restock once we settle in the sunshine. We’re also down to less than 25 bottles of wine after some planned replenishment this weekend – our final membership pick-up. A few of the best bottles will travel with us in the car, but most will be enjoyed or given away in the remaining weeks. Sunshine and Cheers!