Didn't I just say that I felt homesick for Flagstaff? I know this is a contradiction. But hitch itch happens to full time RVers. Forgive me for thinking that there is something of philosophical significance with hitch itch. When an issue is hard to explain, it sometimes helps to tackle its opposite.
Consider camping in one place all season long, which I've done a couple times, in the winter and summer. It's comfortable, you meet people, and find out where to buy or fix this or that.
But one day follows the next.
After the season is over you look back and realize that you don't have many lasting memories.
It was too uniform and uneventful. It is the misadventures that get remembered. An entire season has dissolved into the anonymity of comfort and routine.
In contrast, the fresh sights and experiences of travel are like insoluble fluids that float on the landscape's surface. They retain their identity.
They stand out from the surroundings.
After watching a whole season disappear you experience a recrudescence of the rage that caused you to become a full time RVer in the first place. You remember that "Life is Short" was more than a platitude to you--it was an action item.
Maybe hot-headedness makes some of us become full time RVers. Others might agree that normal life is dreary nonsense, but they are calm and mild about it, and don't want to rock the boat.
Off we go to find the next misadventure. At least we travelers will be sensitive and alive to what happens next, instead of being anesthetized by the sodden routines of a normal lifestyle.
Thinking along these lines reminded me of one of my favorite philosophical essays, "On the Shortness of Life," by Seneca.
