People, mostly misanthropics like Bob T. but occasionally more normal people as well, have asked me, from time to time, to comment on the types of people we run into on the road, and for the most part I don’t, because I really don’t like that many people and the more I see of them the less I like of them, and therefore it has always seemed to me negative or elitist or worse if I talk about what I really think about some of the folks we meet, not to mention that, emotionally, I’m usually better off not recognizing the disdain that usually lurks beneath my smiling exterior – what good does it do me to know that I’m smarter than about 99% of the people I meet out here on one hand and to recognize that I’m still out here doing exactly the same stuff they do, because apparently I’m not smart enough to change what it is that I’m doing?

Or something like that. That said, enough is enough and I’m here to tell you that something simply must be done about the overall quality of people in general. Let me go a little further with an example or two and you tell me if I’m off-base.

So yesterday we were at a KOA campground…and you already know I hate KOAs, starting with their stupid, obviously misspelled-on-purpose name and continuing into their being the hangout of screamy-loud, drippy-nosed kids on skateboards who, at night, screech karaoke, and by extension also the hangout of their parents, who apparently are stupid enough to think the kids are funny, cute, or capable or singing remotely near on-key, none of which is even close to true. However, this particular KOA, outside Freeport, Maine, is quite beautiful in spite of the dumb bunny next door who spent fifteen minutes  trying to convince me that killing bears by baiting them, running them with a bunch of dogs and then shooting them out of a tree is a sport. Heck, it’s quite beautiful in spite of  plastic playgrounds, above-ground swimming pools, bath houses purposely designed to look like barns, all showing that humans, piss-poor custodians of the Earth that we have proven repeatedly that we are, still can’t screw everything up, and in fact whenever we do less, it works out to be more, as for instance-d by the nature trail that some numb-brained KOA work camper cut around the camp one afternoon on a bulldozer and then promptly forgot, as a result of which, just a few weeks later, the trail is half overgrown, mulched by a foot of leaves, this making it half-perfect, and, because it isn’t some pathetic plastic swing-set or, worse, a long series of blow-up Santa Clauses and Elves representing something KOAs call “Christmas in July”, because of the things it isn’t,  it is also largely ignored by everyone in  camp besides Irene and I, meaning only she and I and Jake and Spyro went on it, which took it the rest of the way to perfect, and after shopping in Freeport for several hours I c0uld go and detox on the trail with her and life was reasonably good.

Except when we went to the free Bluegrass concert our last evening, sponsored by L.L. Bean…this is the home of L.L. Bean and they have a stage and free concerts every week in season, being part of their “giving back”, the brochures they pass out telling us about their giving back being the rest of their giving back, but anyway, yesterday evening, they had the Puck Brothers, who feature probably the best bluegrass mandolin player in the world and certainly are an adventurous, different group, playing bluegrass that sounds like a strange blend of jazz fusion and classical, except with separate instrument parts for the mandolin, bass, guitar, fiddle and banjo. It’s a strange, complex, sophisticated form of music, well worth listening to, and I could even forgive Steve, my redneck buddy sitting next to me who clearly didn’t approve, because he at least has grounding for his disapproval, this being his deep understanding of the classical bluegrass form and, I think, a deeper sadness at the mandolin player’s in particular having left all that classical stuff behind in his own personal search for musical fulfillment.

No, what gripped me here was the gang of seven, totally fat, half-drunk idiots four rows behind me who simply wouldn’t shut up, no matter how many times people gave them the look, even though people nearby actually TOLD them to shut up. You have to tell me…why would anybody come to a concert featuring a sophisticated and complex form of music and then persist in talking about Iphone Applications at the top of their collective voices? Worse, why would they persist in laughing at each others’ lame stories about lack of connectivity, about the bargains they got at Best Buy, at the…oh gosh…I can’t even go on without just steaming myself. If I could have wedged my way backwards through the crowd and got to them, I probably would have made it very clear to them how rude they were….hell, how rude they are, as I doubt they’ve stopped being rude since last night, anymore than they stopped being fat.

This is what it’s like out here. People not only are stupid but they all seem amazingly loud, unaware of the impact they have on others, not really seeming to care about anything or anyone except for themselves and their own small comforts. But does this sound any different from ANYTHING else we hear about these days? Bailed-out banks just back from the brink of fiscal death are doubling their bonuses. Bernie M. has gone to jail but obviously only is remorseful at being caught and the fact that he’ll spend the rest of his life in jail, not at the lives of everyone he ruined through greed. Our president is struggling with the recession, with the price of oil, with health-care reform and his work is halted mid-stride by an artificial controversy fostered by ignorant haters about whether or not he should have called an idiotic police action “stupid” or not…and as a result he winds up inviting the perpetrator (the offending police officer) to the white house for a beer. I can’t find anything out there these days that isn’t stupid, so why am I surprised that this stupidity exists within the RV community as well?

So, if I’m this dissatisfied, what do I want out of this life I’ve chosen? Not much, really, truth be known. But I am looking forward to an intelligent conversation with somebody sometime soon, preferably somebody who cares about something besides themselves, even more preferably somebody who will listen when talked to and who will respond on-subject and, dare I say it, without disturbing anyone else around them with their opinions. In spite of everything I said above, I believe that this is possible. But I’m not positive. Anyway, I’ll keep you informed.