Blather

Ah, the last day of August. As I walked to chow through the moon dust, I wondered at what has happened to me in the last, um, 72 days. (Ten in June, 31 each in July and August. At first, it seemed like I was back in the Army. In a way, Fort Benning was, indeed, the Army. But things were different. Then the flight to Bangor, Leipzig and Ali Al-Saleem. Work of the physical variety, living in less-than-normal conditions, and further downgrades in my standard of living.
The last couple of days, I've been realizing that my trailer isn't such a bad place to live. Sure, when I was in California, it was a disincentive to sleep there because I didn't have cable TV and stinging hot water in the shower. My bed was much larger in the house than in the trailer. But I guess the biggest downside was (and I just now realized this) that I was further away from my family, Richie and Kimmie. Sure, if they went upstairs to be alone, that was one thing. (And I gotta point out that they seemed exceedingly discreet about their personal life.) But being in the trailer seemed like I was further away from them, more isolated than if I were in the family room and they were upstairs. The extra 30 feet or so seemed to make a big difference. I was no longer in the house, I was in my trailer. And being in the trailer was a solitary place to be. Solitude slipped emotionally into loneliness. Thus merely being in my trailer,while I was doing something to the shower or bed was fine, because I wasn't being alone in the trailer, merely being inside the trailer to accomplish some task. But sleeping in the trailer meant being apart from those inside the house. And choosing solitude seemed frightening. The sensation reminds me of when I was contemplating divorce after three and a half decades of being married. I didn't want to be alone.

And that takes me to the recent Fantasy Thing- moving to Texas. If I go alone, I'll be alone. Sure, I believe Richie and Kimmie will help me make the move and even stay awhile with me. But I'll be alone eventually. Though there are plenty of people around me in Iraq, in the emotional sense, I'm alone. Each of us here is alone, though we're all part of a team. We work together but the camaraderie has limits. When I go to Texas, I think I'll be alone.

Now if I stay in Hayward with Richie and Kimmie, I still want to take off for the occasional trip somewhere. If they work, they won't be able to go with me. But I still want to take off and see Texas and Montreal and North Dakota (again) and maybe Mondovi and points in between. I'll be alone during these travels but I'll still have a home. Maybe this is the point I missed when I didn't sleep in my trailer much before I left- having a home isn't about where you sleep, it's about having people who care for you. And as long as Richie and Kimmie care about me, that's my home. In their constrained and constricted way, I think Pense and Schaffe care about me, but they have trouble demonstrating that because Bonnie controls their external behavior so much. They are required to love her and any affection towards me is a visible detraction of their love for her. (Moi doesn't think that's real love, but it passes for love among those three.)
This shouldn't be a roastof Bonnie's maternal control, this is about me and my thoughts about being alone.

Lately, I've learned that being alone isn't bad. As long as you have something to do, you're all right. Tomorrow may be a patrol, so I may find myself at the port. That'll occupy a lot of my day. Breakfast, a patrol to the port, dinner, a visit to the internet cafe and a cigar at dusk. These things seem simple, yet they make a day full. I have a few of those left before I get to be home for good.

I brought my laptop out to the camo net because I'm tired of hanging out in the swahut with nothing to do. At least I get to see daylight from here. Occasionally someone will ask if I have wireless. I don't. This is just a place for me to type. Right now the sun's out, there's a small breeze, the dust is minimal and it's very quiet. About 100 feet away is the berm that separates us from the town of Husaibah. I can't see the town, but in the evening I can hear the mosque faintly. It seems sad that I'm in a country but I can't see much of it.

Back to solitude and loneliness. In the Texas Fantasy, I mentioned that I might accept Schaffe and Pense and even Bonnie as dependents when I'm settled in. That seems odd to me because of the history of antipathy that Bonnie and I have. She knows how to annoy me and seems to have no reluctance in doing so. I just want to be happy, in my limited way. I can't really live in my house because it's not mine- it's the bank's. And I can't work another 27 years to satisfy the bank, so I'll have to leave. Unless Richie and Kimmie want to make it their home, too, then it might be home to the three of us. If that happens, I'd be happy right where I am- and I might even live in my trailer in the driveway, so the three of them could have two bedrooms. Bonnie will always have about $1500 per month from my retirement, and that might be enough for room rent for two rooms. If I took all her money, she'd just ask me for food and gas and McDonald's money. Maybe if I charge her $1200/month for two rooms, that would leave her with a bit of her own money. And I'd be in my trailer when I want to be. Not sure how she'd manage with me do close. She might feel threatened. No, I'm sure she'd be threatened- her values, her lifestyle would look bad in comparison to mine. Her two younger children would see that her decisions and values have been foolish. And she couldn't handle that. She needs to be right all the time. Not just "mostly right," but all the time. And from time to time, I might disappear down the driveway for a week or three. Texas? Sure. Maybe just out to Modesto or Angel's Camp for a long weekend. I could take a guest or two, since the couch up front makes into a bed. Heck, there's even room under the shelf in my bedroom for a camping pad. Not as comfortable as living in a house, but it would be up to me when and if I decide to visit somewhere.

Bay Area Backroads sounds like a good plan. With 40 gallons of water and a charged battery, I could be self-sufficient for about a week. And if I stay at a camp-ground, even longer.
Blithering all the time. I have a mind like a drop of water on a frying pan- it skitters around scarecely touching the important parts.

Well, back to the swahut. I'll charge my laptop and see about a walk to the internet cafe.