In the He Says/She Says series, we discuss financial-ish topics where we agree to disagree and make our case with fighting words. We then promptly make up.
George Washington would be pretty impressed with a lot that the 21st century has to offer. Computers, drones, dental hygiene, Capri Suns. But among all of mankind’s greatest innovations over the last 300 years, there might be none that would make General Washington’s jaw drop quite like the mobile home. Part truck, part home, part storage unit, part campsite, all awesome.
In my mind’s eye, this is what I see in the not-so-distant-but-maybe-not-totally-realistic future…
Sally now has a brother and a sister. They’re sitting in the back of an RV watching a 3D DVD of The Mighty Ducks. Sally gets up and walks to the front seats where Joanna and I are sitting. “Mom, Dad. This is just the most swell thing we’ve ever done. You guys are the best.” Joanna glances over to look at me approvingly as I steer our 30-foot home. I slow down as we approach our next “address” for the next three weeks. I hear ooohs and aaahs from the back as our children peer out the windows to see a variety of prehistoric wildlife. I put the RV in park, turn toward our children and say, “Welcome… to Jurassic Park.”
Joanna hates everything I just wrote. I think she’s okay with the Jurassic Park part (because it’s a reasonable future-world prediction), but she despises the entire premise of owning, driving, and living in an RV. Her objections are many: she doesn’t like feeling unsettled; she thinks they’re weird; she thinks RV parks are weird; she doesn’t like the idea of having a mini-sewer in our car; she doesn’t want to shower in our car; she doesn’t like the idea of driving a minivan, let alone a freaking semi-truck; etc., etc., etc.
Here’s my argument. I want to see America. I want to take our sweet time visiting the most beautiful, historic, and amazing destinations in America. I want to bring the whole family (including our cat… maybe… eh, probably not). I want to be able to work (comfortably) on the road. I want to be able to sleep in my bed and not worry about bed bugs and every hotel bed black light demonstration I’ve ever seen on TV. I want to bring bikes and gear and groceries. And I want to do all of it on a tight budget. If there were ever the perfect sales pitch for RVing, I’m pretty sure I just laid it out there. There’s a whole lot to love about living in an RV.
Those perks don’t come without a few negatives. The RV itself can set you back $100k if you’re considering a full out conventional motorhome. We’d obviously look used first, but that’s a hefty chunk of green regardless. Then there’s the costs of gas. And the older, slightly strange RV-park neighbors. But all of that seems like a small price to pay for the ability to take your show on the road full time, if you please.
I think Joanna’s afraid to admit that we’re nomads, but the fact that we’ve moved to five different states in five years says it all. RVs were invented for people like us. And if I have my way, Joanna’s just gonna have to get used to a big, beautiful home-on-wheels sitting in our brick-and-mortar home’s driveway.
Time to weigh in, Interneters. Are you on Team RV or Team NoV? Are you open to the idea of vacationing/living a semi-nomadic life on the road, or are you only open to leaving the comfort of your home if it includes room service and a mint on your pillow?