When you get to a crowded campground (almost all were) you have to assess the situation and think about what “club” you want to identify with. Everyone is friendly and chatty and picks up on the cues around your campsite. We have New Mexico plates which changes the opening salvos. I think a Mass plate would be surprising…certainly an Obama sticker would. Those you might find on the tent campers Prius or broken-down VW. Grey hair makes for a club, driving around with potted plants to decorate your entrance is another…or filling your windshield with stuffed animals. Or bringing a pet or two.
American flags are big – I guess overt patriotism the symbol of a large camping clan. ..the open road thing…I’m my own man…something curiously American going on. Sports affiliations are on display. But when Mott wore is Red Sox cap, he got nary a comment.
Then we walk around indulging in RV envy - would you look at that slick chair, cool sewage tube support, satellite antenna…..
We of course are the paupers of any RV park….only 20 feet long – and we seem to be the only people who prefer to cook and eat outdoors…and have a campfire. As dusk approaches everyone disappears inside and has dinner looking out their picture windows. Then the eery blue glow of TV screens colors the campground
oops...we forgot our solar panel
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