Helped by ‘the Enemy’
Now what? I’m asking for your advice.
Life hands us surprises, many out of our control.
Mid-March, after 500,000 accident-free miles traveling in my camper-van, my luck changed. Another driver did something stupid and I almost managed to avoid hitting him. The “hit” resulted in my van being totaled, but neither of us were injured and his vehicle barely damaged. This post isn’t to relive the accident. It’s to take you on the journey I’ve been on since then.
Let me say straight up — our previous president is one piece of work. My dismay with his existence is not what this post is about, either. I just didn’t want you wondering….
Since I travel for my work, HEAR US Inc., chronicling and advocating for families experience homelessness, I need a vehicle to work from and live in. Since my van was out of commission, I shopped for (with plenty of help from my sister) a replacement. And found a viable option — a teardrop camper. That’s not what this post is about.
I made arrangements to pick up the camper last weekend. My sis and I went down to the RV place, I signed a bunch of papers, and then we got a walkthrough, an orientation about what was what in this little camper. I’ll call the young guy who did this task “Jack.” This post is about him, and me.
I’ve lived in campers for almost 20 years, so I’m accustomed to the general way they operate. But Jack had stuff to tell me that I didn’t know, and he did it quite well. Early on, I noticed he was wearing an arm band around his wrist. I couldn’t help but read the “Fuck Joe Biden” message on it. Just when I was getting to appreciate Jack, my mind shifted. I fumed. Still, I had to finish listening to Jack give me the lowdown on this rig.
My conflicted feelings distracted me. I wanted to give Jack a what-for. Or ask him what could he possibly see in the idiot former prez? But I didn’t. My sense — nothing I would say could have made a difference. I suspect his boss knows he wears that bracelet, and is likely of the same mind.
We hitched the trailer up to my new (used, ’23) Tacoma pickup and my sis and I headed home. Of course we discussed the bracelet, and the differences in political preferences of Jack and others like him. We solved nothing.
Fast forward a week, and I’m up in the DC area to participate in the big demonstration tomorrow in front of the Supreme Court, hoping to make a statement about people experiencing homelessness who have nowhere to put their heads but the streets. That’s not what this post is about.
A week after buying my used NuCamp T@B 320 camper, with barely any time to learn the how-to’s of towing a camper, I’m on the road and at a county campground, knowing that it means I have to back in to the campsite. Most people know that backing trailers of any size is, um, challenging.
Usually you’d have a backup camera, and another person, to guide you. My new Bluetooth backup camera, which we had paired the other day, didn’t work. No choice, so I scoped the campsite and began backing in, with the usual vexing trailer-backing thing happening — it goes right when I wanted it to go left. I felt I could figure it out — until another vehicle came along. I waved the big-ass pickup by me.
The guy driving put his window down, and I did mine. His question was obvious — was I having trouble? I stifled the “hell” part and just said “yeah.” He went further — did I want some help? Putting my pride aside, I said yes. He pulled over and he and his (?) wife got out and walked over to my idling vehicle. I’ll call him “Bill.”
Bill confidently stated that it’s easy (yeah, right, especially the first time sans backup camera). His wife moved out of the way. Bill said he’d get behind me and guide me in, explaining the wonky steering wheel thing that turns your rig the opposite direction.
I happened to notice their pickup had South Dakota license plates, and he was every bit a spitting image of a MAGA guy. (My stereotype, which I’d bet is correct). He was a bit obnoxious, in a male kind of way, which just added to my typecasting him into the former prez’s camp.
But he helped me. I got into the campsite in one piece, finished getting hooked up — stuff I’ve done thousands of times — and all was well.
These two encounters in one week made me think. We can’t help but cross paths with “the other side,” politically. Things have gotten way out of hand between supporters of Joe and those who proudly wear their bracelet saying what they think should happen to Joe. This isn’t about the politics.
It’s about how we need to interact, and behave, in public.
We can’t avoid the other side. Isolation is almost impossible. We depend on the farmers, the EMTs, the police officers, the medical personnel, the teachers…and so on. Despite their political persuasion.
Antagonism will destroy what we have left of our democracy, a goal, it seems, of those who don’t see the January 6th attack on the Capitol as problematic.
I’m not Pollyanna-ish. I’m politically active and relatively informed. I don’t have any easy answers. I’m hoping some of you do.
