I sold Betsy, the Big Blue Skoolie Bus this weekend. It was a sad day for the Vagabond; but I got what I was asking for it, so it all seemed to work itself out. Plus it allowed me to take a trip to Baltimore with a friend to watch a few bands play at the Traffic Jam Festival. It was a little awkward having missed all the larger music festivals this summer that I had intended to see in the bus, and within minutes of selling it, I was on my way to a local festival.
What to do now that I have no bus?
Having no bus does not mean that the adventure is over by any means, just that it has to be changed up a bit. I am currently in the process of scouring Craigslist for a small enclosed trailer (6x10-6x12) that I can throw a mattress, couch, table, and Misha's bed into. I will then just look like a person in a Jeep moving to their next location. That IS what I am doing, just a little more inconspicuous now that I don't have 33' of bus advertising myself. The other option is to buy a 4x8 trailer frame, build a shell for it (a tear drop trailer) and live out of that. Either way, the website Talesofavagabond.com will be re-worked to show off my new style of minimalistic living, still taking full advantage of solar power and minimalistic living. The plan is to get myself to Slab City, CA somewhere around Halloween, spend the rest of the winter in the desert with the rest of the snowbird travelers, and see where life takes me.
I posted this onto Craigslist the other day, and now I'm posting it here.
I am currently in Fauquier County, Virginia in my travels around the USA in a School bus converted to be an RV with a Waste Vegetable Oil Conversion, and Solar Power for all the electronic goodies.
Traveling alone can be boring sometimes, so I am opening the doors of the Skoolie Bus for up to 4 new friends.
I run a website at ~~ http://TalesofaVagabond.com ~~ that documents most of my travels around the world, and currently, in this bus.
I am looking for fun, friendly, open-minded people to travel the United States in my Skoolie.
Requirements from you:
Over 18 years old
Drug/Conviction/Alcohol Free (minor and occasional use acceptable)
Able to travel across state lines
Able to live in a small space with other people
MUST be Dog Friendly and non-allergic
Able to use a computer
Fun, interesting, and Friendly personality
Have no problems leaving jobs/relationships/family/ etc...
Valid US Drivers License with fairly clean driving record.
I currently have no planned destinations or set itinerary other than to travel west and find a warmer winter climate, and like to plan as I go, so you have the opportunity to be the co-pilot and have a say as a decision maker.
I will be charging 'rent' of $100 (yes...ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS per Month) to ride in the bus to ensure that insurance and repairs can be made. I make an income entirely from the internet, and can show you how to do it easily.
Please send me an e-mail at BusCrew@Talesofavagabond.com with an introduction of yourself, and 3 reasons why you should ride on the bus with me.
Thanks. I look forward to meeting my new traveling friends.
Vagabond Sean
http://www.TalesofaVagabond.com
So, it's been aboput 2 weeks since I put the bus up for sale on Craigslist, and I am amazed at the responses I got. My phone didn't stop ringing for the first 48hrs after I posted the Craigslist ad, I received 45 different e-mail responses, gave grand tours to ~12 people and I still own my bus. not out of lack of trying...I followed up whit just about everyone; it's just that my bus really doesn't want to part ways with Misha and I just yet.
I spoke to 5 different people who, although interested in the bus, thought I should stop with the silly idea of selling it, get Misha and myself back into it, and "GO TRAVELING!!!!" Since my reasons for selling the bus were 100% financial, it amused me when I recieved a check in the mail, and saw an odd increase in my online earnings the day after the 2nd person told me to get back into the bus. Totally odd; but understandable, considering the Power of Positive Thought. Do a search the 'The Secret' ... or refer back ot Earl Nightingale's 'The Strangest Secret'. Both will be life-changing experiences, and they are 100% FREE!!
I've got another idea on how to keep the bus on the road. Room Mates ;)
I am giving away $100 USD via PayPal.
To be eligible, you must be one of the first 200 people, before September 21st, to sign-up at CashCrate through this link. Registration is simple and FREE. I will let the winners know via e-mail when the contest is finished, as well as post the winners list here.
--------------------
...A Link from the winners' post back to you
First Place Prize
...$100 USD via PayPal from me
Second Place Prize
...150 EntreCard Credits
Third Place Prize
...A Link to your website/blog from 10 different blogs/websites
Additional Entries
--------------------
You can have an additional entry into the contest; after you have finished the CashCrate sign-up process with one of the following:
1. Write a Blog Post about this contest and link back to it.
2. Submit a Digg about this contest
3. Stumble this $100 PayPal Give-Away.
(Place a comment below for confirmation.)
I have been using CashCrate for more than a year, and have been paid with a check in my hand; and can usually make ~$50/mo just doing what I normally do on the internet. After signing up, I can show you how to maximize your earnings almost instantly.
It's official, I put the bus up for sale on Craigslist yesterday. This is purely a financial decision for me. I really hate to part ways with this bus. I love all 16,000LBS of it, but Misha has to eat, I need car insurance, and some funds to embark on the next adventure. Although the big blue bus will be behind Misha and myself, we are by no means done on our expedition; we just need to downsize some. I've got a few places and things in mind that will bring us out of Virginia and continue on down the road of life with ever-changing scenery. I am amazed on the amount of people interested in our bus. I though trying to sell my bus was going to be hard, but I guess I am not the only crazy person that wants to live in an old skool bus.
Vegetable Oil Powered Skoolie ~ Converted RV School Bus for Sale
Check out Other buses for Sale. Converted School Buses & Regular Skool Buses ready to be Skoolies.
I spent many summers in Massachusetts going to the Quincy Quarries to swim and jump off the cliffs made by the abandoned granite Quarry in Quincy, Ma. Sadly, none of my friends can find any pictures that we took of ourselves and others jumping from cliffs that were in excess of 50 feet, most being from 50 to 100 foot in drop.
I am looking for pictures of people jumping at the Quincy Quarries
Pictures of people at the Quincy Quarries
Pictures of the Quincy Quarries cliffs before they were filled in
Pictures of the graffiti at the Quincy Quarries
Anything that you have of photos from the Quarries would be helpful. I want to showcase the good times that were had by the jumpers and also friends who cannot believe that the people of Southern Massachusetts were lucky enough to have this great summer swimming hole.
If you were lucky enough to jump at the Quabin, or any other quarries in MA, or New England, please feel free to share them as well.
To submit your pictures, please e-mail them to QUARRYPHOTOS ~you know what goes here~ MYTRAVELPHOTOS ~DOT~ INFO
Thanks to anyone that can help me out.
My birthday is this weekend. I will be 29 years old this year. One more until I change into my 30's. I'm a little ambiguous about this birthday, as my life has changed so much in the past year, and I thought i was on track for getting wht I wanted done by 30. Oh well. We'll just have to see what cards are dealt for me in the next year. The goal back when I was about 12 was to have 1million dollars in a bank acct, or other savings system before 30. hmmmm....can I make 1,000,000 in 1 year?? I think I can with a whole lot of blood sweat, and especially tears.
Until then, make my day! Send me some birthday love.
I am really amazed by the amount of people that payed attention to me not posting for a while. Really tho, I am NOT DEAD!! I have just not had a consistent/legal internet connection to use. Soon enough that will all change and you will go back to the regularyly scheduled updates and amusements from my life. Until then....enjoy the rest of my blog/web sites.
I am on a mini-adventure. It's actually a fairly large adventure, but small in comparison to most of the journeys I have taken myself on. As stated before, I jettisoned the Jeep back in Massachusetts, and have been car-less in Virginia for the past 3 weeks. I decided it was time to reclaim my vehicle, so I posted an ad on Craigslist in Washington DC looking for a ride back to Boston. I guess I chose the wrong week to hitch a ride from CL, as there was NO-ONE going my way. This is when the plan sprouted from inside my head. Why not make it into an adventure to get your jeep. HAAA!! If you know me, you know that plans go from zero to circles in a matter of moments. Like the rest, this one did not fall short. I am currently making posts to the Tales of a Vagabond blog from the confines of a Bolt Bus headed to New York City, with my final destination being Boston, Massachusetts.
Errr... How did I get here?
Simple really...
I was awoken with a "Hey...I'm leaving in 30 mins". Misha was reluctant to get up @ 5:30; although if SHE wants to be awake then, it is MY problem. Damned female dog with a Man's name. (Misha is Michael in Russian). A short drive into Old Town Manassas, and I was dumped at the Amtrak/VRE station platform. The Vagabond now has no phone, no GPS, no on-demand internet, and NO clue what the hell I'm doing. There is always someone watching over the traveler, and truthfully, I think Vagabonds, Hoboes, Tramps, and the like take up most of the time. Meet the Management Customer Appreciation Day happened to be today, so I was treated to water, and snacks at no charge. This got turned around when I was told to get to DC you need to buy a train ticket at the platform, and ONLY by credit card. NO CASH TRAIN TICKET TO DC!! Hmmm....It's an $8 ticket, and I have $1.25 and $4 between my 2 credit cards. As the coffee guy attempts to use his card to buy me a ticket, the station attendant comes over, hands me a fresh, new, FREE, complimentary ticket to Washington DC; she had a stack of them, and figured I was prime candidate. All Aboard the train to DC it is then. Me in my dirty pants, just woken up face, 1/4 way through a cup of train station coffee; I sit down with 3-piece business suits enroute to the Capitol. Arriving at Union Station in Washington DC at 8am, I wandered down the National Mall, past as many National Landmarks in our Nations' Capitol as I could. Google said it would take 2 hrs to make my tour before going to the bus terminal. Since I walk faster than google thinks, I gave myself 90 mins. I made it to the bus station with an hour to spare, so I took off the shoes, placed my sweat-soaked socks in the sun, and took a nap. Look for the pictures of my big morning in Washington DC to come soon. I really love observing a city wake up in the morning.
NOT The Tales of a Vagabond Bus
ALL ABOARD the Bolt Bus to New York City.
Bolt Busses go from DC -> NYC and are incredibly cheap/easy/fun. For $20 ($16 if I purchased yesterday morning and not 1am the night before getting on the bus.) Your "E-Ticket" can either be printed, or saved on your phone/PDA. A screen-shot picture of the confirmation saved to my HandHeld PC worked fine. I have room to stretch, a 110 plug for my laptop, and FREE WI-FI the whole 4hour trip to NYC. Plus the driver is nice and friendly. Can you really beat that.
I started with the Google Adsense program to display ads on my blogs and websites and I get a cut from the cost per click advertisements. Basically meaning, every time someone clicks on the ads on my websites/blogs, I get paid a portion of what Google got paid to host the ads. It has taken me a whole year to accumulate the $100 minimum to cashout, but from only running sites that had not too much traffic from little to no promotion.
Here is my check from Google as PROOF the Adsense Program is still Working on blogs.
I will be updating my Adventures in Internet Marketing blog soon to include how I got this check, and how my earnings ONE Month after this check are already at $25.
It was sunny and beautiful on Sunday after we finished doing the cleaning of the house and the school, so off into the Shenandoah National Park we headed. I was told of some neat waterfalls in the woods, just a short hike down the trail. Someone forgot to tell me the trail was 6miles long, so I forgot my camelback to supply myself with water. Still, we had an incredible time; including the woman who was waaay too young to be with her significant other, and had the biggest smirk as we passed them. No, she didn't get lucky on the path, but WE almost did, as she hiked her pants up form pissing on the rock as we turned the corner. A clap can scare a bear, or help someone with their pants around their ankles in the woods.
The WhiteOak Falls Sign
The trail to White Oak Falls
The river created by White Oak Falls
White Oak Falls in The Shenandoah National Park. Virginia
Polution HURTS everyone
This picture is prompting me to make a post on my Living Clean and Green Blog. I saw a naturally carved hole like this in Guyana (proved by the rock still in the hole), but this was from nothing more than pollution.
Notice the nail inside the hole. What do you think caused the hole?
I've got to make a living somehow, and since I chose to work from my computer in a digital world, I really don't have a 9-5 sort of scenario. My sister and her fiance =^) laugh that my computer is usually around me. They goto sleep around 11, have no clue when I fall asleep, wake up at 5am to me sleeping, and come home to me back on the computer.
I do put in almost a full 8 hr day into writing this and the other blogs and websites that I maintain all to keep food in my mouth, and more importantly, as she claims, a bone in Misha's Mouth. I have always been a night-owl, so the wee-morning hours do not affect me too much. I seem to get more done in the dead of the night. It's just more quiet.
 Tales of a Vagabond Blog |  Clean and Green Living |  Vagabond Travel Photos |
 My Adventures in Internet Marketing |
Sorry for the drop in posts this weekend, but we went camping on Naked Mountain. Actually, on the property of my sister's friend's dad in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia, on a hill called Naked Mountain. Camping on someone's property doesn't sound like camping, but as I was told on the way there, you will understand when we get there. Let's see if you can.
We pulled off the road and crossed a wooden plank bridge that hadn't been repaired for what seemed like my 28 years of existence; and parked next to the house, as this was the only way onto the property. A short hike of 1/2 mile through the woods, led by the resident dog named Lance brought us to a clearing with a Jeep, a riding lawnmower with trailer attachment, fire pit, 3 tents, and a group of friends.
Shortly after we got there, the father, who is as interesting of a person as I've ever met. The man had "I was a TRUE hippie" written all over him, and his stories flowed like listening to Tommy Chong on That 70's Show. On a hairy ride in an old Ford 350 through a hay field that hadn't been mowed in years, Mike brought us to the top of the pasture to look out at the Blue Ridge Mountains and told us the history of our surroundings, as well as being very descriptive on how the local coyotes find water and their dens. The road back to camp was NOT the amusing drive through an overgrown hay field, but more resembled a ride through the Amazon Jungle in Guyana. I thought it was more amusing to tell the truth.
The afternoon events shed light on the one friend with a 9mm strapped to his side as he prepared his arsenal for our enjoyment. An old WWII bolt-action rifle with 4inch cartridges and an earth-shattering boom, the previously mentioned 9mm, an old AK-47 flip-stock Kalashnikov, and a replica AK-47 Kalashnikov that had just been milled. I was honestly amazed at how smoothly an ak47 will fire. As local laws state, none of the weapons were fully automatic, but still invigorating to fire; and all safety precautions were taken.
A walk back down the path with only myself and Misha in the evening proved to be the best, as we had no flashlight, and it was pitch black. I had to trust my dog to lead me to where I needed to be and never once did we run off the path. At about midnight, we all decided to split into teams of 2 and walk to the grass field to look at the stars in all their glory, ALL WITHOUT flashlights. Not only did the stars look incredible, but the train had just blown it's whistle and caused the family of 10+ coyotes to start howling, barking, and crying. Misha wasn't even phased, but she was as interested as we were.
We packed up the next morning as the rain spit it's first drops, and made it down the trail, and to the cars JUST as the skies opened up. 30mins, the storm passed, and we were back home Who says you can't go camping in your own backyard and have it be the same or better than paying 'ole mom and pop to camp in the spot they provide, with their rules you must obey, and the loud drunken neighbors that you cannot help but listen to every breath they take.
The tarp underneath is in case of unfortunate events in the middle of the night, as well as serving as a buffer between Misha and the ground.I am as amazed as anyone else that watched the Finale of the American Idol Results show. Kris beat Adam. What a huge upset, even after Adam sang with Kiss. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Kiss back up on stage. It was as if they had never left the scene and were continuing on tour after the Season 8, American Idol Results show. Honestly, there was lots to see in this finale. As a guy, the highlight of the whole show was when Bikini Girl got up on stage, and couldn't figure out why her mic didn't work, and then Kara Dioguardi taking over the stage to sing the song properly. But Fox threw everyone a curve ball, and Kara Dioguardi got naked. Well, as naked as one can be on normal TV in America. Still think it sucks that Adam Lambert lost American Idol, but it opens up worlds of possibilities for him not being tied to the contract he would be if he had won.
Twitter has exploded on the internet in the past few months, and it has become an amazing marketing tool.
The Twitter Traffic Engine is a tool that will help you gain 20,000 twitter followers, and start your marketing campaign almost on Auto-Pilot. With a 60-day 100% money back guarantee. Can you find another internet marketing system that will allow you to see results in Minutes?
I have been consistently updating this blog for a few weeks now, and all my efforts are starting to pay off. Submitting the blog to blog directories, link lists, advertising opportunities for blogs. Making friends with other bloggers, joining forum communities, posting comments on other blogs and websites. All these things are what have been driving traffic into this website lately. My page views are up over 100 unique visitors a day lately. I KNOW this is not my family/friends that I have known for a while. These are from search enginge traffic, and from blog directories. I woke up this morning and checked my placement in some of the blog directories that the Tales of a Vagabond blog was not in yesterday, and today, I am on one of the top 3 pages in most cases.
How do you WORK from the couch; on a blog?
Didn't I just explain that? But really, it takes 2 to make a profit. I just spill whatever comes out of my head into my fingers and type these silly little posts. Sometimes I get all ambitious and throw real ads into the mix. Amazon pays me a cut of what they make from my clicks to products (hint..hint..buy Amazon products after clicking my link). I am currently waiting for a check from Google for the display of adsesne on my sites. Although Entrecard is not paying me currently, I get credits to use towards advertising this blog on other blogs daily. Is it a glamorous job? NO. But if I can make a couple bucks here and there, it all adds up and helps. Stay tuned for a list of Ways to Make Easy Money from Your Computer.
As sad as it sounds, I do watch American Idol. I laugh hysterically at most things that happen on the show, as they are some of the most ridiculous comments and situation. Ryan Seacrest is just a tool in my opinion, Paula the class drunk, and what the hell ever happened to Ryan Dunkleman?
I am predicting that Adam Lambert will win this years' American Idol contest. The man has been able to catch my attention every time he has gotten up on stage, and the vocals that he can produce are amazing every time.
We, as a world, need to come together more. Travelers know that we are really no different from the people of another country. A traveler can see the local culture, see the idiosyncrasies that match up with his own, and feel at home wherever he is. What about World Idol? Take the top 20 from American Idol, mix them with the Top 20 from Britain's Got Talent, and the Top 20 from EuroVision and we now have a Worldwide singing/talent competition. Put it on TV in each corner of the world, it doesn't have to be live...let us vote on-line. A simple registration form will do. Just my thought for the day.
Thanks to The Exaggerator (http://exaggerator.blogdrive.com) for telling me about Don Blanding (1894 - 1957), a Vagabond Poet from Oklahoma.
This one poem is long, but it really captures the essence of what it is to be a vagabond.
Don published his long poem "Vagabond's House" several times. (It was in the first, private, printing of Leaves from a Grass-House in 1923; the commercially published edition of the same book, later that year, included it with the title changed to "Aloha House". In 1928 he restored the original "Vagabond's House" title, making it the title poem of another collection.
by Don Blanding
When I have a house . . . as I sometime may . . .
I'll suit my fancy in every way.
I'll fill it with things that have caught my eye
In drifting from Iceland to Molokai.
It won't be correct or in period style,
But . . . oh, I've thought for a long, long while
Of all the corners and all the nooks,
Of all the bookshelves and all the books,
The great big table, the deep soft chairs,
And the Chinese rug at the foot of the stairs
(It's an old, old rug from far Chow Wan
That a Chinese princess once walked on).
My house will stand on the side of a hill
By a slow, broad river, deep and still,
With a tall lone pine on guard nearby
Where the birds can sing and the storm winds cry.
A flagstone walk, with lazy curves,
Will lead to the door where a Pan's head serves
As a knocker there, like a vibrant drum,
To let me know that a friend has come,
And the door will squeak as I swing it wide
To welcome you to the cheer inside.
For I’ll have good friends who can sit and chat
Or simply sit, when it comes to that,
By the fireplace where the fir logs blaze
And the smoke rolls up in a weaving haze.
I’ll want a woodbox, scarred and rough
For leaves and bark and odorous stuff,
Like resinous knots and cones and gums,
To toss on the flames when winter comes.
And I hope a cricket will stay around,
For I love it’s creaky lonesome sound.
There’ll be driftwood powder to burn on logs
And a shaggy rug for a couple of dogs,
Boreas, winner of prize and cup,
And Mickey, a lovable gutter-pup.
Thoroughbreds, both of them, right from the start,
One by breeding, the other by heart.
There are times when only a dog will do
For a friend . . . when you’re beaten, sick and blue
And the world’s all wrong, for he won’t care
If you break and cry, or grouch and swear,
For he’ll let you know as he licks your hands
That he’s downright sorry . . . and understands.
I’ll have on a bench a box inlaid
With dragon-plaques of milk white jade
To hold my own particular brand
Of cigarettes brought from the Pharaohs land,
With a cloisonne bowl on a lizards skin
To flick my cigarette ashes in.
And a squat blue jar for a certain blend
Of pipe tobacco, I’ll have to send
To a quaint old chap I chanced to meet
In his fusty shop on a London street.
A long low shelf of teak will hold
My best-loved books in leather and gold,
While magazines lie on a bowlegged stand,
In a polyglot mixture close at hand.
I’ll have on a table a rich brocade
That I think the pixies must have made,
For the dull gold thread on blues and grays
Weaves a pattern of Puck . . . the Magic Maze.
On the mantlepiece I’ll have a place
For a little mud god with a painted face
That was given to me . . . oh, long ago,
By a Philippine maid in Olangapo.
Then just in range of a lazy reach . . .
A bulging bowl of Indian beech
Will brim with things that are good to munch,
Hickory nuts to crack and crunch;
Big fat raisins and sun-dried dates,
And curious fruits from the Malay Straits;
Maple sugar and cookies brown
With good hard cider to wash them down;
Wine-sap apples, pick of the crop,
And ears of corn to shell and pop
With plenty of butter and lots of salt . . .
If you don’t get filled it’s not my fault.
And there where the shadows fall I’ve planned
To have a magnificent concert-grand
With polished wood and ivory keys,
For wild discordant rhapsodies,
For wailing minor Hindu songs,
For Chinese chants and clanging gongs,
For flippant jazz, and for lullabies,
And moody things that I’ll improvise
To play the long gray dusk away
And bid goodbye to another day.
Pictures . . . I think I’ll have but three:
One, in oil, of a windswept sea
With the flying scud and the waves whipped white . . .
(I know the chap who can paint it right)
In lapis blue and deep jade green . . .
A great big smashing fine marine
That’ll make you feel the spray in your face.
I’ll hang it over my fireplace.
The second picture . . . a freakish thing . . .
Is gaudy and bright as a macaw’s wing,
An impressionist smear called “Sin”,
A nude on a striped zebra skin
By a Danish girl I knew in France.
My respectable friends will look askance
At the purple eyes and the scarlet hair,
At the pallid face and the evil stare
Of the sinister, beautiful vampire face.
I shouldn’t have it about the place,
But I like . . . while I loathe . . . the beastly thing,
And that’s the way that one feels about sin.
The picture I love the best of all
Will hang alone on my study wall
Where the sunset’s glow and the moon’s cold gleam
Will fall on the face, and make it seem
That the eyes in the picture are meeting mine,
That the lips are curved in the fine sweet line
Of that wistful, tender, provocative smile
That has stirred my heart for a wondrous while.
It’s a sketch of the girl who loved too well
To tie me down to that bit of Hell
That a drifter knows when he know’s he’s held
By the soft, strong chains that passions weld.
It was best for her and for me, I know,
That she measured my love and bade me go
For we both have our great illusion yet
Unsoiled, unspoiled by vain regret.
I won’t deny that it makes me sad
To know that I’ve missed what I might have had.
It’s a clean sweet memory, quite apart,
And I’ve been faithful . . . in my heart.
All these things I will have about,
Not a one could I do without;
Cedar and sandalwood chips to burn
In the tarnished bowl of a copper urn;
A paperweight of meteorite
That seared and scorched the sky one night,
A moro kris . . . my paper knife . . .
Once slit the throat of a Rajah’s wife.
The beams of my house will be fragrant wood
That once in a teeming jungle stood
As a proud tall tree where the leopards crouched
And the parrots screamed and the black men crouched.
The roof must have a rakish dip
To shadowy eaves where the rain can drip
In a damp persistent tuneful way;
It’s a cheerful sound on a gloomy day.
And I want a shingle loose somewhere
To wail like a banshee in despair
When the wind is high and the storm-gods race
And I am snug by my fireplace.
I hope a couple of birds will nest
Around the house. I’ll do my best
To make them happy, so every year
They’ll raise their brood of fledglings here.
When I have my house I’ll suit myself
And have what I call my “Condiment Shelf”,
Filled with all manner of herbs and spice,
Curry and chutney for meats and rice,
Pots and bottles of extracts rare . . .
Onions and garlic will both be there . . .
And soya and saffron and savoury goo
And stuff that I’ll buy from an old Hindu;
Ginger with syrup in quaint stone jars;
Almonds and figs in tinseled bars;
Astrakhan caviar, highly prized,
And citron and orange peel crystallized;
Anchovy paste and poha jam;
Basil and chili and marjoram;
And flavours that come from Samarkand;
And, hung with a string from a handy hook,
Will be a dog-eared, well-thumbed book
That is pasted full of recipes
From France and Spain and the Caribbees;
Roots and leaves and herbs to use
For curious soups and odd ragouts.
I’ll have a cook that I’ll name “Oh Joy”,
A sleek, fat, yellow-faced China boy
Who can roast a pig or mix a drink,
(You can’t improve on a slant-eyed Chink).
On the gray-stone hearth there’ll be a mat
For a scrappy, swaggering yellow cat
With a war-scarred face from a hundred fights
With neighbours’ cats on moonlight nights.
A wise old Tom who can hold his own
And make my dogs let him alone.
I’ll have a window-seat broad and deep
Where I can sprawl to read or sleep,
With windows placed so I can turn
And watch the sunsets blaze and burn
Beyond high peaks that scar the sky
Like bare white wolf-fangs that defy
The very gods. I’ll have a nook
For a savage idol that I took
From a ruined temple in Peru,
A demon-chaser named Mang-Chu
To guard my house by night and day
And keep all evil things away.
Pewter and bronze and hammered brass;
Old carved wood and gleaming glass;
Candles and polychrome candlesticks,
And peasant lamps with floating wicks;
Dragons in silk on a Mandarin suit
In a chest that is filled with vagabond-loot.
All of the beautiful, useless things
That a vagabond’s aimless drifting brings.
Then, when my house is all complete
I’ll stretch me out on the window seat
With a favourite book and a cigarette,
And a long cool drink that Oh Joy will get;
And I’ll look about at my bachelor-nest
While the sun goes zooming down the west,
And the hot gold light will fall on my face
And make me think of some heathen place
That I’ve failed to see . . . that I’ve missed some way . . .
A place that I’d planned to find some day,
And I’ll feel the lure of it driving me.
Oh damn! I know what the end will be
I’ll go. And my house will fall away
While the mice by night and the moths by day
Will nibble the covers off all my books,
And the spiders weave in the shadowed nooks.
And my dogs . . . I’ll see that they have a home
While I follow the sun, while I drift and roam
To the ends of the earth like a chip on the stream,
Like a straw on the wind, like a vagrant dream;
And the thought will strike with a swift sharp pain
That I probably never will build again
This house that I’ll have in some far day
Well . . . it’s just a dream house, anyway.
The word vagabond, as defined by WikiPedia (person):
A vagabond is an itinerant person. Such people may be called drifters, tramps, rogues, or hobos. A vagabond is characterized by almost continuous traveling, lacking a fixed home, temporary abode, or permanent residence. Vagabonds are not bums, as bums are not known for traveling, preferring to stay in one location.
I feel that I can relate to this very well. J.R.R. Tolkien
When I travel, I want to travel to smell the scent of each destination. I want to soak it all in, so I can be there forever almost, as certain events in my life remind me of things I heard, saw, or thought while I was traveling. Anytime I see a documentary of the Amazon Jungle, and hear a Screaming Piha, I am almost immediately taken there in my mind. From there I can drift over to the top of Jordan Falls and relax on the the ledge where I spend hours just watching the clouds roll by, listening to White Bell Birds. Click to Listen to other bird sounds from Guyana. Travel for me has become an integral part of my life. To not have an ordinary home, and live a life of perpetual travel, only makes your home where you are for that moment in time.
The greatest feeling I get when I travel, is to know that i am being as sustainable as I can be. My waste is reduced, as well as my consumption. I am aware of my belongings and what impact they have. There is also a feeling of independancy. If I do not help myself to survive, then I shall perish, and only have myself to blame. Travel opens your eyes to a world that has always been in front of you. The first time I backpacked Europe solo, I came home to explore Boston for what felt like the first time, even though I had been there for 24 years.
To me, to be a Vagabond, means to be free. To only deal with your current surroundings as they happen. To enjoy life as life was intended to be, for each and every moment.
I have been avoiding making a post for the past few days. Just haven't been in the right mindset to write anything without having it sound bad; so I let my mind drift for a day or 2. Been trying to take care of other marketing sites and random book-keeping and housekeeping on the net. That, and catching up with the lovely couple whose couch I am residing on. Hearing stories of South Beach, the do's and dont's of topless beach apparel, and crazy scooters taking people for the ride of their lives' makes me wait for Tuesday just to write the next story to go with a picture. This is actually the story that gave me the idea for:
Tuesday's Tales
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This one is a little odd, but still a great story. I went on an eco-tour with Foster Parrots (a parrot rescue/adoption/rehabilitation/sanctuary facility) that had joined forces with villages in the Rupununi Valley in Guyana, South America. We had been there a few days, and took a guided tour down the 3mile road to find Hawk-Headed Parrots. We chose to walk, and found all sorts of creatures. This was the tip of the Amazon Jungle. Small Poison Arrow Frogs, Blue Morpho butterflies flitted around, making every effort to lure you into taking their picture by staying completely motionless until the snap of the lens, and then they were gone, leaving a blue streak in the picture. This also showed me how poor our hearing was from living in the 'Wild Urban Jungles'. Our guides were able to hear a truck coming down the road 15 minutes (I am serious) before any of us knew it was coming. "It just wasn't a forest sound, and I knew it had to be a car."
As we walked back with no photos of the Hawk-Heads, refusing the ride from the truck, we came across a family of Spider Monkeys. We watched them play and forage in the tree tops for a while, then went on our way. That is, until we stopped when it felt like rain. The rain was followed by a low rumbling thunder that turned into the barks of a family of Howler Monkeys. These things are LOUD!! I am not sure who wakes who up in the morning, the screeches of the parrots, or the hooting of the Howlers. Either way, we were being pissed on by the oldest monkey. Cameras out, pointing up, our mouths we now CLOSED!! We were warned that poo was to follow if we made any rash or stupid movements. Although it was not slung at us, a large branch was removed from the top of the tree and casually thrown at us.
That is when it happened, the juvenile Howler Monkey, who was about 100' in the sky grabbed for the next branch, the next branch, and then missed. This poor little monkey fell out of the sky. I have fallen out of a tree and ping-pong balled down hitting every branch, so I knew how this little guy felt. He had fallen the whole way, when at the last second grabbed onto a palm frond that stretched all the way to the ground, where this little Howler Monkey sat for the brief second staring directly into our eyes, within an arm's length, before being catapulted back into the sky to an awaiting branch. I still cannot tell you WHO was more scared, had larger pupils, or soiled themselves the most, but I could tell that monkey was thinking the same thing as we were. "oh shit...oh shit..."
As luck would have it, every camera in our hands had dead batteries right at that perfect moment, and there is NO record of this extravagant story on film, so you have to take my word for it; but it has caused me to always have a fresh pair of rechargeable batteries in my pocket (rather than in a pack that gets separated from me while on another persons' back) whenever the camera is in my hands.
The rough draft in my head had a black picture for this story, but this is Kaieteur Falls in the Jungles of Guyana, South America
The falls are 5X larger than Niagara Falls in New York; and 2X larger than Victoria Falls in South Africa, at a height of 741ft, with a total drop of 822ft, making it the "Tallest Single Drop Waterfall" in the world. There is a rock out-crop that you can stand on if your heart, mind, and soul are in the right place.
or....You could always sit at the edge of the falls, tempting fate.
My dog has pimples. They form around her top lips, and they are HUGE and nasty. She has had them for as long as I've known her, but last summer when we stayed in Alabama, they miraculously cleared up and went away. I was pleased that she didn't have to be bothered with them, or me trying to rid her of them; only to return to Massachusetts, and have them come back full-force. Of course, now that we are again out of that state, her acne has cleared up again. Her pimples were gone in a week! No diet change, or anything else to signal the cause. I think she is as allergic to MA as I have decided I am. Speaking of allergies, I lasted 25 years of my life before seasonal allergies were a part of my life. I have been floored this week with a runny, stuffy nose. It's either the allergies, or Jurassic Park gave me Iguana Flu from sneezing on me in the night. Let's hope for the allergies since I don't know how well I would deal with scales, and spines on my back.
I'm still in Marshall, VA; still holding down the fort at my sisters' house. They are due back this evening. Still without a phone, since the payments I am waiting for are coming from good ole' Massachusetts, and since I am not there to break legs, people seem to think they don't have to pay me. :( As much fun as it has been without a phone, it pretty much hinders anything else that I try to do. Selling things on Craigslist, not easy without a phone. Setting up computer repair jobs...again not easy without a phone. Finding out that my other sister drove from MA to VA and drove past me last night because I didn't have a phone for her to call me.
Now that I am done bitching...I am actually enjoying myself in the sticks of Virginia. the people here are nice, and do not fear talking to the scruffy, bearded, dreadlocked me. In Massachusetts, that's a whole different story; even for those living on my street and in my neighborhood. Anyone who has spent time in MA knows that we like to replace things in our speach. R's become H's, H's become AAAAH's, and hellos turn into F.U.'s. I have had a good conversation about my appearance every day since being here. Just plain odd, considering I laught at my appearance some days.
It has been thundershowering here all day, on and off. I went to mow a lawn today, and got it done 15 mins before it downpoured. I was in the car on the way back home when visibility went to 5ft in front of the car, but the lightening show was intense. I saw no reason to bring the camera with me to mow a lawn..HAAA The clouds showed me. Maybe it will be attached to me from now on. I've always hated looking like a tourist with a camera dangling from me. I mastered the art of carrying my camera in my pocket, and revealing it only for a second for the photo while backpacking through Europe a few years ago, but still, it's just an aggravation to carry around on a daily basis.
I'm not sure how silly this is yet, but I'm going to give it a shot. One of the main reasons for having websites, other than informing and educating people, is to creative some sort of an income stream. As a Vagabond, I cannot really tie myself down to a 9-5 job with a career path. 7-11 is hiring, but I don't have any bullet holes, and really don't want any.
is a device used to read E-Books and other such electronic media, like an iPhone, but without all the cool play toys. We'll call this the Conservative iPhone for now. Amazon has announced a program, where they will allow you to place your blog, and it's posts into their cue of blogs to be downloaded and read on Amazon Kindle devices. Of course, Amazon doesn't wasn't to give anything away for free, so they charge ~$2.00 for each subscription, and I get a cut of that...equals to about a buck a subscriber. I noticed that while selling on eBayI saw the ladies from my sisters' work last night, and I now know that it is time to tell my secret. First, Mom, I am sorry I lied to you, but your mouth works like a repeating megaphone sometimes, and I couldn't spoil the fun. Hope this public "outing" doesn't change your enjoyment of reading my blog. ;)
First, here is a set of honorary Vagabonds (by blood) spotted on Duval St in Miami, FL on their vacation that would prove to change their lives.
If you haven't figured it out by now, My sister was proposed to on her vacation yesterday. YAAAAAYY!! I've been waiting, and I know she has too for a while, and it actually happened. Sometimes you just know when 2 people are good for each other, and hope it all ends up like a fairy tale. I am soo happy for them, and wish them the best of luck...it's just a little odd being in her/their house while they've been gone, seeing pictures of my sister all throughout her life, recognizing my LITTLE sister, and all the while knowing she is going to be a bride soon. Kind of makes you put how old you are into perspective. My little sister has turned into a woman without any warning.
When I got to my sister's house, I commented on how her front yard looked like a jungle. I got a coy smirk either meaning, "Yeah...I Know." or the more likely case of "Shut Up, Sean." Either way, the jungle comment was all brought to reality when I walked in the house. Even tho this animals' name is Nacho, I have been referring directly to it as Jurassic Park.
Here's why...
I am cool with animals of all sorts, so nothing here affected me in any way; although this creature sits on the top of the cage, staring at me all day and night long. I really feel like I am in Jurassic Park with her looking at me.
All this is going somewhere....
Thursday's Triumphs
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LOFL ... I wonder what happened to him?I may be a computer geek, as outlined in yesterday's post, but I can also fix an engine as good as any redneck, tho I tend to not catch fire. Needless to say, after electrical taping the hole, stripping down, and rebuilding the lawnmower and carburetor, the outside of the house no longer displays the fact that there is an honest zoological park residing behind the door. I can count a dozen beating hearts, from 5 species right now. Now I just have to write up a little instruction guide on how to repair a lawnmower, simply and easily.
One of the biggest questions I get asked is "How do you get internet?" Until today, I have been using a Sprint AirCard that basically gets me broadband speeds from anywhere in the country. Even when I had no phone reception, my aircard worked wonders and delivered web-pages to my fingertips. That leads me to....
Wednesday Worries
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This was supposed to be Wednesday Wishes... awwww. how cute. But I guess Sprint didn't like my lackadaisical bill-paying methods and shut me off. Phone and internet. ... But Sean...if you have no lines of communication, how the hell did you post this? Well my friends, I have spent my entire career for the past 15 years as a computer technician. When the movie Hackers
came out, I was mad that they "gave away" all our 3l33T secrets. Blue Boxes, Black boxes, wardialing, default passwords...yes, I watched it recently.
Here is my current "office" I setup to "gain" internet access to send texts to friends through SMS for free using 811.com. These texts were sent as notification, as well as a plea for payment for $$ owed in some cases.
I can connect to 1 open AP from here. Yes, I realize that this is not 100% on the legit side, but after I am fully restored, the owners of the AP(s) in question will receive a visit, and an offer for computer services to rid themselves of "Hackers" like myself. Wardriving to gain a customer base, it really DOES work.
