CounterMoon.org

This is one of the questions I get around to answering, though the question tends to take many forms. "Why do you do this?" and "How did you get started?" all lead here at some point.

Some highlights of my life:

• Was taken camping when only 10 days old.
• Learned to solder, make DC circuits at 5
• Knew how to choose tank ammunition at age 7
• Visited 46 states and Puerto Rico twice before 15
• Started building computers at 14, in 1978.

I used to think myself so messed-up as a kid; I had a hard time with personal interactions (girls) but could talk to anyone else on the planet including Indians, Mexicans and Canadians (because I already had). The reason was I wasn't like any other kid. We were on the road sometimes for three vacations a year! No wonder I lacked social graces.

We took so many trips to Florida, I swear my Dad knew every Stuckies manager from Indiana to Key West. I especially liked the little plastic dolphins made by those juke-box looking machines.  I had several of those through my childhood; always liked the dolphin and seahorse best, though.

Our trips out west were legendary; they'd take weeks somehow. I barely remember the Mystic Seaport trip, but I think of it whenever I see a sponge. :)

Speaking of sponges, at this time I was a data-sponge, learning my multiplication tables during a trip to Florida, reading everything Dad brought home from the Army Reserve meetings, and a lot of the radio-stuff from his business. My head was so full of useless information, it was crazy.

One day on a trip to a radio manufacturer, a clever man with a huge mustache took the stage and said, "You guys will hate this, but scanner-heads are on all the new radios, and you need to know how to deal with them." He started telling me about AND gates, OR gates and all the basics of logic. This was the spark, the ignition of my building curiosity about computers.

It was around this time in 1978 that I dreamed this particular dream. To drive around the USA, uploading my work and downloading money, working in computers in an ever-changing scenery.

This seemed only natural; I can't tell you the number of times I went sleep in my own bed, to wake up surrounded by suitcases.  Many times I'd crawl from between those suitcases to go into the truck stop to find breakfast waiting for me, a hundred miles from home.  And we did it all in a big, green 1964 International, like the one above.

But soon came women...then marriage, babies and divorce. All this time the dream was 'put in park'. I almost thought it was gone, until the divorce made me think about my last-remaining, plausible dream.  And this one's it.

It started with an 11-year excursion in a full-sized, customized van. It had most of the essentials, minus the bathroom, food preparation and workspace. It was actually in this vehicle that I came to Christ, in a life-changing, world-aligning way. It was surprising and wonderful; unlike anything ever in my life. I guess He knew it was time. I kept rolling on in this van as long as I could. This was definitely a "long, sweet ride".

And, like all self-powered vehicles, it has the 'main flaw' of becoming useless when the engine or body does. That's why all the customization this time goes into a trailer...made of aluminum and having a low moving-parts count.

This vehicle was made a little taller than the default, and instead of a drop-down rear door or a side door, I put the door in the back. It was a bonus from my employer that I never thought I'd see.  It was clear when I first saw it, some dreams can, actually be chased. Sometimes things are actually possible.

But then came Mom's stroke and fall, happening close together. The conversion for which I'd returned was going nicely, and I really had to go back and care for her.  And I've been here 9 years this November.

Caregiving in southern Indiana has proved to have very little technical work, and lots of work I'm no longer able to do. I have multiple problems with my feet and legs that render pain from standing too long, and a heatstroke that makes me 'a puddle' when it gets over about 80 degrees. So resturant work is out, much of the factory work, too.

He's sent me here at this place and time; I don't exactly know why. He's kept me from any visible income; my best year here has been $11,000 (down from $42,000 in Chicago) and still somehow I keep hanging on. He'll move me when he's ready for me to.  Or, when I'm ready for Him.

Please enjoy the trip with us, won't you?