RV Poetry

Well, some of you did, right? Simply hold a remote in your hand and moving your arms a bit, flick your wrist?

I’m sure many of you play that way, but when we play tennis on Wii, we play as if we are on the court, not that I know what that is really like. Growing up in Florida heat and humidity, being anywhere but a pool was the last place I wanted to be. I could sweat just sitting in a chair, I didn’t need to jump around to look as if I had accomplished something.

So, Leon and I lunge and swing that remote with force against that invisible ball. I have managed to hit Leon’s arm on a return more than once; smacked the table with the remote, more than once, when I lunged too close to it. I mean, on that TV screen there is nothing but green grass and plenty of room; I get lost in the game.

At our last condo we had two story high ceilings, but we moved into a one story home. The living room used to be a carport or garage, so there is a dropped ceiling about a foot wide where the house/garage wall used to be. Just so happens that in front of the front door is the best place to jump around, I mean, play tennis. The dropped ceiling piece is just a foot or so away, between us and the TV. We hooked the Wii back up today.

So… Leon decided to power drive a serve his arm swinging over his head. Guess he learned something watching the greats play at Wimbledon. Such power in that grand slam – and instant blood and swollen fingers as he served the overhead drop instead of the invisible ball.

Now, most wives would calmly get a towel and ice and show great sympathy. I did, but you know that nervous laughter mixed with tears? Yep, that was me. I rushed to get a cloth – and grabbed some ice, but…. the entire time, I was laughing at how it happened and crying that he hurt himself. He knows me well after all these years, and just said, “I would not laugh if you hurt yourself,” or something like that, trying to act like he was actually upset that I laughed, but I know he understood the real emotions behind my laughter/tears – after 36 years.

He switched to Wii Baseball once the bandaids were in place and his forced time out for ice was over, but kept his arms just below shoulder level in an even swing – and did not wind up his pitches. He didn’t try to use his laughing bride for a baseball either, thank goodness.

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Yep, I said that, I think I mean it, too. But then, I don’t have an RV yet. In fact, I have never even ridden in one. So, how did I come up with this directive?

It just came to me, like my poetry, my short stories – and the excuses that pour freely out of my mouth when I don’t want to do something at any particular moment. At 58, I’ve had plenty of practice at thinking – without actually concentrating – via a very active subconscious.

Seriously, your RV must accommodate your needs, just as your marriage needs do:

• 1. If you prefer your spouse be in the other room and out of your hair more often than not, you might survive RVing (and marriage) if you have an RV large enough to have a bedroom with a door for those days the weather is too poor to send him/her outside to help a fellow camper or
• 2. walk off his/her temper. Yes, an interior door (other than a glass or acrylic shower door) will come in quite handy when you (or your partner) feels the need to express yourselves with a slam or two. That interior door might just prevent your driving hundreds of miles with the exterior door hanging off the hinges and all that unwanted attention it will bring. The bedroom door can be wedged inside somewhere – no one will be the wiser – well, except your blog readers, perhaps.
• 3. Then there is the sleeping issue. If you like to snuggle close to your spouse and they prefer distance – and they have always won that battle in the past – here is your chance to win! Get a small RV with over cab storage and your partner’s dream HDTV up there. There will be nowhere else to sleep but the uneven sofa with that crack in the middle. You will just naturally roll together, just like on an old mattress with bad springs. Instant togetherness. No way your TV fanatic is going to give up that HDTV for a bed, well for a little while, anyway. And by then, you may just decide you don’t like sleeping with your nose plastered in his armpit with only GI showering available.

OK, that’s enough for now. Stay tuned, I am quite sure I can come up with more.

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