Camping at Home Depot and friend and family reunion.

Left Maine at noon March 18th and drove until 10 p.m. I stopped at a Motel 6 outside Waterbury, Conn, being wary of that franchise from past experience. But I was very tired and ready to rest. Walked into the lobby, not bad. Guy said I could have my dog in the room and get the senior discount. A fair price so I said, "Yes." He gave me the card key and I drove around the back to building D, like he said. Put the leash on the dog, packed what I needed and squeezed out of the van into the hallway to my room. Pushed the key into the slot, nothing! Tried it six more times. Nothing! Reloaded the dog and my stuff into the van, drove around front, entered the lobby and the guy gave me five keys he swiped to clear them. Back into the van, drove around back, unloaded my dog and my damned stuff. Slid all five keys into the slot, six times each. Nothing! Reloaded the dog and my crap, drove around front, entered the lobby, three people were smoking cigs in the lobby. Red flags flared! The guy ran down the hall to my room while I loaded up my dog and my shit into the van, and opened the hall and room doors. The foul scent of dog feces hit me in the face and spots of brown covered the rug. But I said to myself, "Self you're so tired, maybe you can handle it." Self was skeptical. The guy left and I picked up the corners of the sheets and mattress cover to check for bedbugs. NONE! Yay! I can do this, I said to Self. Then I pulled down the covers. The sheets were bunched up, speaking of the bodies that had occupied it the same day. I called the guy and said I'm outta here. He apologized and assured a refund.

I drove to several exits south and stopped at an Econolodge and asked to see the room first. Not bad, clean but used over the years. As the clerk and I left the room I told him I was paranoid about bedbugs. He said, "No, we don't have them; unless someone brings them in." That's all I needed to hear and think about. I said, "I'll sleep in my van thank you."

Driving out of that driveway, I spied a giant Home Depot parking lot across the street. There was only one semi-rig in the lot and a nice dark spot away from floodlights. This would do. There was a small group of folks around a campfire in the woods twenty yards away. I wondered if they were homeless and would be there all night. In the van to settle down for the night, I kept my fleece top on in case a cop flashed his lights into my van in the middle of the night. My jeans came off, though, which could have landed me in jail if a cop did show up. Getting onto my bed made from my massage table and four inches of foam, was tricky. There was little room  between it and the ceiling so I had to support my body with my foot against the opposite wall of the van. Didn't know I could still do the split. The temperature was below freezing, as evidenced by the heavily frosted windows next morning, but I was toasty beneath my comforter and down sleeping bag. Shortly after I was settled, I heard a creaking noise, twice  coming from some part of my van, metal on metal. I was puzzled by it but it didn't occur again so I slept a restless sleep due to the parking lot lights. At 6 a.m. the next morning I was surprised how rested I felt.

Two of my hubcaps appeared to have been pried loose and one was broken. I think I narrowly missed having them stolen that night.

I arrived in Penna. the next day around noon and contacted my friend Mariah Rose Dreaminbear, the former Mary Lou Meyers, who played with me on my High School Basketball team 52 years earlier. That's her with her sweet son, Adam. We met at RoyAnn Diner on old route 309. As I entered the lobby, I saw a woman whose face I recognized but couldn't recall her name. "Francine," she said, "I'm Karen Fell." Well, don't you know, she and her two sisters with her are my distant cousins. We all had creamed dried beef on home fries and talked up a storm then went thrift store shopping. Was a grand time.