I am the 0.4%

I just stumbled on an article that said that 1.3 million Americans are full-time RV'ers. While I'm not really an "RV'er" per say, I do live in an RV full-time. With ~314 million people in the U.S., that means I'm part of the 0.4% of the population living in an RV full-time, either by choice or necessity.

The difference between me and the likely majority that comprise the statistic is that I'm probably about half of the age of most "RV'ers." I'm also not using my RV for "Recreation" -- I'm not spending my days in national parks or living on a pension. I'm parked in a shitty dirt lot behind the office building of the trailer park I'm currently living in. I've been at that location since August and I'll likely only be there until April 30th.

So, as inglorious as it might sound, living in an RV behind an office building for 8-9 months a year, the fact that it's only for that duration is actually quite glorious. Though, that's really the saving grace --- the fact that I get to move my RV a couple times a year for a job somewhere... else.

So, while the 0.4% of the country who are living in RV's year-around probably aren't doing it the way I am, I suppose I'm now part of a strange club of nomads -- a tiny minority of American citizens. Instead of being chained to a landlord or a mortgage company, I'm chained to school and then the fear of utter poverty when school is out. It seems freer, at least for the moment.

No Rent... REALLY?

So, school's out in a few weeks. I'm pulling anchor on April 30th, no matter what. Why? Because I'd rather spend the money that I would pay for "lot rent" on gas to get to somewhere cool. Not that where I'm at isn't cool, but it sure would be great to just go live somewhere else because I can. Why would I live in a high-plains town over the summer when I could live in the mountains and take some shitty job, but step out my front door and be on a motorcycle trail? Or a pack trail? It kind of doesn't make any sense to stay where I am, in part because opportunities are limited and because I don't want to have to cool my house over the summer. It seems that this RV lifestyle is wasted on the old --- I'm having a hard time comprehending the fact that my house can be anywhere I can afford to drive to and then I can come back without any ties in lease or mortgage. It's kind of crazy.

A presentation on the homeless

There was a presentation in my department today about a graduate student's project on the homeless. It got me thinking about what "homeless" is and how we define what homelessness is. By many people's definitions, I'm "homeless." I pay rent as needed, I don't live in a house with a foundation, and my house has wheels and an engine. I have a roof over my head, but no real reason, other than the price of gas, to not roam. Am I homeless?

I realized while thinking about this that I'm the least homeless person I know, despite the fact that many people would classify me as such. The reason I came to this conclusion is that I own the roof over my head outright. Nobody can take away my house because I'm not paying rent -- if I don't want to pay rent, or can't, I unplug my utilities and wait until I can afford rent. I don't have a lease and my mortgage is no longer the roof over my head...

So, who's homeless? I don't think it's me. As I see it, I'm not homeless for more reasons than just owning the roof directly over my head. I also realized that I would actually be willing to camp year-around. My tents are homes in themselves. It seems that I'm realizing that I have a functional view of the world and have broken down the barriers of what "home" is and what it is to be "homeless."

In a nutshell, what I've learned is that the definition of homeless is narrow and kind of ridiculous. Why would I be considered homeless when my living situation involves so little risk from being lost to wealthy bankers or landlords? By definitions, even of academics studying the issue, I am homeless... and I disagree.