Jesus take the wheel... of the RV... and crash it.
On my way to buy a camping stove from a stranger in Vacaville (from Craigslist, and they threw in a pound of free bison meat), I passed a church marquee that said "No one can ignore Jesus forever."
I don't know about you, but that sure sounded like a challenge to me. So far I have successfully ignored Paris Hilton, the economic crisis, and that piece of food stuck in my teeth, none of which I plan to acknowledge any time soon. Now granted, forever is an awfully long time to do anything, but the way I figure it, I only really have to ignore Jesus until I die since he's probably not going to resurrect a guy that's been brushing him off for such a long time.
Unless of course, Jesus likes people to play hard to get, and then I might've just clinched my own salvation, so suck it.
This slogan is kind of weird though, right? I mean, since when did Jesus become the nerdy kid in high school trying to wear down the defenses of the popular girl so he can ask her to prom? What about, "Jesus is a really nice guy, and you should give him a chance. He has a really good personality and won't feel you up on the first date." That's a sales pitch I can get behind. But "no one can ignore Jesus forever"? Well, just watch me, guy who I'm not acknowledging.
Now something that you really can't ignore forever (stand clear, segue coming through) is nature. Because there's a whole lot of it and it's not going anywhere. (I mean it is going places if we don't conserve it or if the world explodes, but even then it'd still exist in one way or another. Anyhoo...) So yeah, during some of my time not being in Malaysia, Sarah and I decided to take a break and not be in civilization either for a few days. So without further ado, I give you Part 1 of a more-than-one-part series on what I did for my spring vacation. Spoiler alert: I was in the desert.
Part 1: Death Valley
It's been my opinion that nature is like a Reese's, in that there's no wrong way to enjoy it. I will, however, say that there are a whole bunch of more messed up and mind-boggling ways to enjoy it, all of which I reserve the right to silently judge. Or in this case, verbally judge.
RVs: I know it's easy to beat up on RVs. They have a low class image, get terrible gas mileage, and are responsible for at least one bad Robin Williams film. I can admit there's a certain appeal to being able to drive your house and defecate in you car, but I'm going to have to come down on the side of the haters for this one. The one exception I might make is that they allow people who are massively agoraphobic to be afraid of a different landscape every once in awhile. Which I guess is some improvement.
Drunks: I hate to say it, but drinking mass amounts of PBR when you're sleeping in a tent still counts as being an alcoholic. Going somewhere new to drink does not count as doing something new, in and of itself. Now if you switch brands from PBR to Coors, well, maybe. You might get credit for that. I'd have to look it up.
The loud family in the campground next to mine: You guys suck. Why are you so unhappy? Is it because you're with each other? If so, I can relate.
Good ways to enjoy nature:
Putting meat on fire: I don't know why, it just tastes better. You can even use tofurkey dogs, I really don't care. Just burn something and stick it in your mouth.
Getting lost: Nature isn't nature unless it lets you know how insignificant you are and how close you are to dying at any given moment. I like to bring food, water, and adequate clothing whenever I'm about to do something potentially stupid, and I recommend you do the same. That being said, the problem with staying in an RV is that you can never get lost in the desert, even for a moment. You don't get the moment of panic where you're forced to accept your imminent death. And you miss out on the moment of utter jubilation when you see your tent, the trail, or the hot ranger coming to save you.
Sleeping from sundown to sunup: I love camping because in real life, I almost never get credit for waking up early. But out in the wild it's really boring and cold when it gets dark, so you can sleep for 10 hours and wake up in time to pee in a gopher hole while watching the sunrise. That's what it's all about.
Hey, Jesus, you want a tofurkey dog? What? That counts? Seriously?
Damnit.
I don't know about you, but that sure sounded like a challenge to me. So far I have successfully ignored Paris Hilton, the economic crisis, and that piece of food stuck in my teeth, none of which I plan to acknowledge any time soon. Now granted, forever is an awfully long time to do anything, but the way I figure it, I only really have to ignore Jesus until I die since he's probably not going to resurrect a guy that's been brushing him off for such a long time.
Unless of course, Jesus likes people to play hard to get, and then I might've just clinched my own salvation, so suck it.
This slogan is kind of weird though, right? I mean, since when did Jesus become the nerdy kid in high school trying to wear down the defenses of the popular girl so he can ask her to prom? What about, "Jesus is a really nice guy, and you should give him a chance. He has a really good personality and won't feel you up on the first date." That's a sales pitch I can get behind. But "no one can ignore Jesus forever"? Well, just watch me, guy who I'm not acknowledging.
Now something that you really can't ignore forever (stand clear, segue coming through) is nature. Because there's a whole lot of it and it's not going anywhere. (I mean it is going places if we don't conserve it or if the world explodes, but even then it'd still exist in one way or another. Anyhoo...) So yeah, during some of my time not being in Malaysia, Sarah and I decided to take a break and not be in civilization either for a few days. So without further ado, I give you Part 1 of a more-than-one-part series on what I did for my spring vacation. Spoiler alert: I was in the desert.
Part 1: Death Valley
It's been my opinion that nature is like a Reese's, in that there's no wrong way to enjoy it. I will, however, say that there are a whole bunch of more messed up and mind-boggling ways to enjoy it, all of which I reserve the right to silently judge. Or in this case, verbally judge.
RVs: I know it's easy to beat up on RVs. They have a low class image, get terrible gas mileage, and are responsible for at least one bad Robin Williams film. I can admit there's a certain appeal to being able to drive your house and defecate in you car, but I'm going to have to come down on the side of the haters for this one. The one exception I might make is that they allow people who are massively agoraphobic to be afraid of a different landscape every once in awhile. Which I guess is some improvement.
Drunks: I hate to say it, but drinking mass amounts of PBR when you're sleeping in a tent still counts as being an alcoholic. Going somewhere new to drink does not count as doing something new, in and of itself. Now if you switch brands from PBR to Coors, well, maybe. You might get credit for that. I'd have to look it up.
The loud family in the campground next to mine: You guys suck. Why are you so unhappy? Is it because you're with each other? If so, I can relate.
Good ways to enjoy nature:
Putting meat on fire: I don't know why, it just tastes better. You can even use tofurkey dogs, I really don't care. Just burn something and stick it in your mouth.
Getting lost: Nature isn't nature unless it lets you know how insignificant you are and how close you are to dying at any given moment. I like to bring food, water, and adequate clothing whenever I'm about to do something potentially stupid, and I recommend you do the same. That being said, the problem with staying in an RV is that you can never get lost in the desert, even for a moment. You don't get the moment of panic where you're forced to accept your imminent death. And you miss out on the moment of utter jubilation when you see your tent, the trail, or the hot ranger coming to save you.
Sleeping from sundown to sunup: I love camping because in real life, I almost never get credit for waking up early. But out in the wild it's really boring and cold when it gets dark, so you can sleep for 10 hours and wake up in time to pee in a gopher hole while watching the sunrise. That's what it's all about.
Hey, Jesus, you want a tofurkey dog? What? That counts? Seriously?
Damnit.
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