Zingaro Life, here we come

"One day I devised me a plan, that should be the envy of most any man..."  -Johnny Cash

Every once in a while, life throws such a hardball at you, that you are forced to think differently.  Like "completely out of the box" differently. So, in true MacLoosh fashion, I have hatched a plan.

Lately those hardball's have been coming fast and frequent.  My usual good sense of humor is wearing thin and I am closer to breaking than usual.  Extreme circumstances call for extreme measures (or something like that) so after a day of ruminating on this...here is the best I have come up with:

We are going to become gypsies.

Oh, hardy har har...laugh it up.  Snicker if you must, but at least hear me out.

We already own a camper.  We have enough fishing, camping and gear to get a good start.  Our minivan, while currently in need of a several repairs, is paid off.  POS as it might be...we own the damn thing.

The way I see this, is we pull our kids from school.  Sell the house, TV, fish tank, and most of the other "extras". Then, we hit the open road.  Gypsy style.  We will have crap in plastic tubs, tied to the top of our 1985 pop up camper with twine, and every spare inch of the interior of our van will be crammed with the remnants of our lives in suburbia.

We will effectively go off the grid.  Forever.  We'll be real,live, vagabonds.

The seasons, and temporary work will guide our travels, but there are enough touristy places where we can find summer work in the great north woods to keep us going until the weather forces us south.  Once we have ventured south (or southwest) we can head for the winter tourist destinations.  Maybe I can be the guy who chops up the chum for SeaWorld?  Or perhaps I could sweep up the mess from the spring break crowd in South Padre?  Maybe my wife can find temporary work as a bartender at the local dine and dash truckstop.  We will work hard at whatever job we have at the time, and save for a new camper.  Ideally I'd like an Airstream but we would settle for something that was less-tent like  than our pop-up, has hard walls and maybe even indoor pluming.

Ya gotta dream man...ya gotta dream.
The kids will be home-schooled.  Taught by the very best teacher in the world...experience.  Life is hard and we won't want to allow them to get too disillusioned with this comfy suburban life, so I think a good year or so sitting on the steps of the local touristy shopping district with an open guitar case, and singing or dancing for tips should harden them up nicely.

When they aren't doing that, there will be several other chores to be done as we will live off the land as much as possible.  It will probably take my son a while to REALLY get good at skinning racoons...but after a while, I think he could be the best pelt skinner this side of the Ticonderoga.  My daughter...well...of the two...she is the most likely to kill an animal without naming it first, so we will work on her marksmanship with my old Winchester .22.  As she gets older, we'll work her into con games and pool sharking.

The way I see this, we could bounce from place to place, see the country and learn the different cultures, mooch off of friends and relatives when possible, and generally live free and clear of the world around us.  It would be relatively stress free (as compared to our current conundrum...)

We would genuinely be able to thumb our nose at the corporate elites and politicians whose failed policies have forced us to take cuts in wages that were already paltry.  When things start to get sticky at our workplace, or we've worn our welcome out...we simply pack up, and move on.

Free will in it's most pure form.

Methinks that every great plan has to be sold correctly to the stakeholders...and getting Mrs. MacLoosh to bite on this one might be tough.  BUT!  I will contend in argument that a better plan has yet to be put forth...  So until one makes itself evident...this will be our tack.

Now excuse me.  I need to go get a gold tooth, a red scarf, and a couple of earings if I am going to do this Gypsy thing right...

See you on the open road my friends.  If I don't see you, I'll send postcards from the edge.

(By the way, Plan B is a remote cabin built with hand cut logs in the mountains of a national forest-without permission. Of course.)

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