Folks, Sorry for that last out burst. I do not know what came over me. I sat with the bar of soap in my mouth for an hour. I have been thinking about my dissatisfaction with polishing and feel I need to clarify my point. Before I started Anna looked elegant to me. I could see a few dents, a few scratches here and there, but no big deal. She is 47 years old, she deserves to show some age. However, now the polishing has just highlighted all of those dents and scratches. Scratches upon scratches and dents have breed more dents. I see all the flaws. I see deep pits of oxidation on top of or under the scratches from some idiots use of steel wool. I see the stretch marks from the shaping of the end caps. I see where branches have reached out to pinch her and grope her as she drove by. I see BB dents from some kids red rider. I am not happy with what I see.
When I was 19, I pursued a girl long and hard, courted her, dinned her, the whole bit. After a few weeks it progressed to a level if intimacy. When she actually took off her clothes I found that she had stuffed her bra and that hair dye was a big part of her life. I felt that the woman I had pursued, was not the woman I had fell for. I saw her in different light so to speak. This is what I am going through now. With exception of the roof, every panel has some sort of major flaw, some huge scratch or dent. I have seen worse skin on trailer at rallies. Those owners seem alright with what they have, I need to do the same. I just need to except the fact that she will never be the shiniest trailer at the ball. Hopefully I never get parked next to the a guy like Rob Baker, Abe Lincoln, or Doug Rowbottom whose trailer are like mirrors. Can one request to be parked between two Argosy? Maybe one that has some peeling paint.
Driftwood Shack at Navarro Beach, Mendocino County - One of the new photos that will go in the revised and expanded version of *Driftwood Shacks: Anonymous Architecture Along the California Coast. *I'm workin...
23 hours ago