Going Feral Again.

 When folks ask me what it was like to be Homeless by Choice for 6.5 years, I’ll respond “at times it was a feral lifestyle.” If the questionnaire desires more information,  I’’ll give them the down and dirty. 

Going feral is when a shovel creates an instant outhouse. It’s when a gallon of tepid water gurgling from a Solar Shower provides personal hygiene. It’s when the definition of clean clothes are the garments with the least stench. Food options can be Macs and Cheese, or a can of soup or a refried bean burrito. It’s far from glamping or being a Foodie. 

Going feral means being outside the mainstream. Your contact with other Homo Sapiens is at below sea level standards. It’s a lifestyle not for the gregarious or the squeamish. It’s ultimate social distancing. Its my way of dealing with a deadly pathogen. 

To be honest, (remember this is the most honest blog in the world) going feral is not too challenging  for me. When the weather is gentle and cooperates it’s no problemo. I like being “out there.” 

In this winter of Covid discontent, I had two options. 

A) Safely sequester myself in my cozy Durango townhome where I could anxiously wait for my vaccine lottery ticket to be drawn. 

OR

B) Road trip with Sanctuary II (my new truck and camper) to Death Valley National Park. Patience is not a virtue of mine. But then again citizens wouldn’t want a patient firefighter either. “Don’t worry folks, we’ll extinguish your house fire once “Jeopardy” is over.” 

There really weren’t  any options.

I provisioned up with the idea of playing “Keep Away” from winter and Covid for a month. I stocked my camper with two Jeffy requirements. Coffee and IPAs. Oh yeah, food too. Eventually I’d run out of fresh fruits and vegetables. When that time came, I’d double down on my vitamins to stave off scurvy. It’s all fun and games until your teeth fall out. 

Death Valley NP is far, far away from real towns. The closest being PaTrump (SPIT!)  NV. This high desert city’s motto says it all. “More Gun Shops, than Grocery Stores!” It’s a place best to avoid. BUT if you do have to get stuff, run in, run out at the crack of opening times. On those days, I’d drink an extra cup of coffee to ramp up my shopping to “Warp Drive.” If you’d blink you’d miss me, which Is fine by me in PaTrump. That means no one has time to take aim at me.

Postscript: I managed to avoid a trip to the sh-thole of PaTrump (Spit!) NV. I scavenged off the land. Hostess Wheat Bread, eggs and raspberry preserves from the “Family Dollar” Store in Beatty, NV and overpriced tomatoes, apples, oranges, potatoes, onions and salsa from the Furnace Creek General Store. 

My dinners were reminiscent of the Old Time miners except I discarded the cans in an appropriate manner. I never came close to running out of IPAs and coffee. My priorities are spot on.

From the land of rock, gravel and sand all blended into one beautiful National Park. (A perfect place for a minimalist like me.)

Stay safe, sane and healthy,

Jeff

Postscript II: En route back to Durango. Old Buddy Paul L did what I couldn’t do from DVNP. He went online and scored two Covid shots for me. I shoot up on Tuesday! I sound like a junkie but I don’t care. Be part of the solution instead of the problem. Get your vaccines ASAP. Please. 

Remember no one will ever say, “That Pandemic, now those were the days!”

What would Buddha do?

In May 2019, I strolled around the community of townhomes I would soon be residing in. I was on a mission to pick up the vibe of Parkview Terrace. 

You can tell a lot about a neighborhood by its vehicle’s bumper stickers. In the parking lots, I noticed “Bernie 2016”, “San Juan Mountain Association”, “May the Forest Be With You”, “I’d Rather be Hiking” and “Ska Brewery” rear end adornments. There wasn’t one “NRA” sticker.

Nice! 

Since all the townhomes look nearly identical, the ability to decorate is limited by the occupant’s imagination. What I saw was promising though: Tibetan Prayer Flags, heavy metal sculptures, strings of colorful lights and Happy Hour lounge chairs. But what really caught my attention was a pair of Buddhas. The Enlightened Ones were hanging out on pedestals on opposite sides of a garage door. They were sporting just had a Double IPA grins. 

Well, if a neighborhood is cool with Buddhas surely it would be OK for a Liberal minded former Wandering Wondering Jew to move in. My intuition turned out to be correct. I chose well. My neighbors are kind people.

Recently I escaped Durango’s season of cold and snow. I was in Snobsdale, AZ, when a string of text messages lit up my phone. They were from my neighborhood’s message board. The catalyst was from Marcia. It read, “Hey guys, someone took an Amazon package from my door last night AND one of my Buddhas. That's just bad karma for whoever did that. Any one else have something taken?” 

The text chain came fast and sometimes furious. An “All Points Buddhas Bulletin” went out. Neighbors began searching in snowbanks and the surrounding neighborhood for the missing Siddhartha. I suggested putting the local hounds on the scent of Buddha. But the pooches (a Chihuahua , a Corgi, a friendly Mutt and an Australian Shepherd) weren’t up to the task. Buddha had been fleeced for good. All my neighbors (and me) were virtually bummed. 

Later that day while I was on my daily Snobsdale hike, I thought about what transpired 430 miles away. The little I knew about Buddhism was based upon Tibet and the Dalia Lama. A few months ago I read “Eat the Buddha” which was a sad account of China’s tyrannical abuse of the Tibetan Buddhists. The 14th Dalia Lama is their spiritual leader.  I’ve seen him on TV.  He giggles a lot! When  Mr. DL wasn’t chuckling he seemed to be a Human who preached peace and good will toward all. I liked that.

So with this in mind, I pondered. What would Buddha do? Why he’d click on Amazon and purchase a replacement of himself to gift to Marcia. THAT’S what Buddha would do. Well, he’s long gone, so I was his stand in. After the deed was done, I texted this to the neighbors and mutual friends.

Hi neighbors,

From Snobsdale, I read about Marcia’s purloined Buddha. I went online and bought her this replacement. If you care to toss in a few bucks, that would be nice if not you are still invited to sign the card. As we all know Covid sucks. I thought a bit of neighborly goodness would be appreciated by Marcia.

Thx in advance,

Jeff the Cold Weenie

The response was extremely generous. Not only did we cover the price of Buddha, there was enough left over for a healthy donation to the Durango Food Bank. A win-win situation for all. 

I’m no expert, but I’d say that’s Good Karma.

Last photo: Here’s Marcia’s Facebook post upon receiving Buddha. After reading this, I too was sporting a Double IPA grin. It’s fun making mitzvahs. 

Cheers,

Jeff