One snowy evening we saw our hosts step out on their back deck and point towards the bus, so we each stuck our head out a window and waved.
“What’s going on over there?” we asked.
“We have dinner guests and they don’t believe we have people living in a bus in our backyard.”
We waved again and the guests were convinced.
When we tell others we live in a bus, most are surprised, but supportive. Still, I have wondered if the neighbors around us ask themselves what the heck our hosts are doing letting some crazy hippies (or something worse) live in their backyard. However, a few days ago Steve met one of our part-time neighbors and introduced himself as a bus dweller.
“Oh yes, we call it the Partridge Family bus,” said the neighbor.
“Would you like to see inside?”
The neighbor agreed and was impressed with the pleasant interior.
Then she said,”In this day and age, I guess it’s good just to have a warm place to live.”
She is right. We paid cash for our bus and escaped from our high monthly rent. The bus (and our composting toilet) completely paid for themselves after one year. We don’t have to worry about not having a roof over our heads and we can live in a beautiful mountain retreat.
I don’t believe that the American economy will return to it’s former glory; its need for infinite growth is colliding with the reality of finite resources. Peak oil is no longer the province of conspiracy theorists, it is upon us. Our nation is falling deeper and deeper into debt. The Middle East is entering a new round of turmoil.
So we live in a bus.