I Like to Party

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The Man and I have moved into our new digs out in the dessert, and we are slowly meeting the neighbors.

Most of the people who spend the winters in this area have been doing so for decades. Folks know each other, so newcomers stand out. Are you the girl who bought Coyote Steve’s place? folks keep asking me. They look a little skeptical when I say I am. Is their skepticism because I’m probably 20 years younger than the average person out here or is it because they don’t know if I have what it takes to be a desert dweller? I don’t know the answer to the question.

The other day, The Man and I were trying to get on the road. He had an appointment at a dental clinic, and we were trying not to be late. We’d stopped at the campground office on our way out to check on our mail. The Man was going to throw a bag of trash into the dumpster, and I was going inside to ask after a package we were expecting.

As I got out of the van, the three old guys on the porch eyed me suspiciously. I was in a hurry, so I’m not sure if I said hello.

Are you the girl who bought Coyote Steve’s place? the one standing up called after me. He had longish white hair and a longish white beard. He wore a red t-shirt and khaki shorts. I’d be surprised if he’s celebrated fewer than 65 birthdays.

I am, I said over my shoulder. I know I should have stopped, said hello, introduced myself, but I was in a hurry and feeling more East Coast than Southern.

Well, I’m your neighbor, he bellowed, and I like to party!

People Dancing Inside BuildingI just kept walking while wondering what information he wanted me to take from his statement. Was he offering me an invitation to party with him? Was he warning me to expect noise from his rig? What kind of partying did he like to do? Classic rock and whisky? Electronic dance music and Ecstasy? Was he hoping I was looking for sex with an older man? Perhaps I should have asked for more details, but I just kept walking.

When I got back in the van, I told The Man, That old man told me he likes to party!

I guess I was a little scandalized, not because a senior citizen might like to raise some hell and have some fun, but because he thought I might want to participate.

Well, The Man drawled, you can’t blame a man for putting it out there.

Image courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/people-dancing-inside-building-801863/.

About Blaize Sun

My name is Blaize Sun. Maybe that's the name my family gave me; maybe it's not. In any case, that's the name I'm using here and now. I've been a rubber tramp for nearly a decade.I like to see places I've never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again. For most of my years on the road, my primary residence was my van. For almost half of the time I was a van dweller, I was going it alone. Now my (male) partner and I (a woman) have a travel trailer we can pull with our truck. We have a little piece of property, and when we're not traveling, we park our little camper there. I was a work camper in a remote National Forest recreation area on a mountain for four seasons. I was a camp host and parking lot attendant for two seasons and wrote a book about my experiences called Confessions of a Work Camper: Tales from the Woods. During the last two seasons as a work camper on that mountain, I was a clerk in a campground store. I'm also a house and pet sitter, and I pick up odd jobs when I can. I'm primarily a writer, but I also create beautiful little collages; hand make hemp jewelry and warm, colorful winter hats; and use my creative and artistic skills to decorate my life and brighten the lives of others. My goal (for my writing and my life) is to be real. I don't like fake, and I don't want to share fake. I want to share my authentic thoughts and feelings. I want to give others space and permission to share their authentic selves. Sometimes I think the best way to support others is to leave them alone and allow them to be. I am more than just a rubber tramp artist. I'm fat. I'm funny. I'm flawed. I try to be kind. I'm often grouchy. I am awed by the stars in the dark desert night. I hope my writing moves people. If my writing makes someone laugh or cry or feel angry or happy or troubled or comforted, I have done my job. If my writing makes someone think and question and try a little harder, I've done my job. If my writing opens a door for someone, changes a life, I have done my job well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts, my word and pictures, the work I've done to express myself in a way others will understand. I hope you appreciate the time and energy I put into each post. I hope you will click the like button each time you like what you have read. I hope you will share posts with the people in your life. I hope you'll leave a comment and share your authentic self with me and this blog's other readers. Thank you for reading.  A writer without readers is very sad indeed.

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