RV There Yet?

Imagine a life without utility bills. Absent of subdivision association fees. Void of property taxes. Suppose you could visit historical monuments and tourist attractions across the country without ever leaving your home.

For the more than one million Americans who've passed up the life of urban sprawl in favor of traveling the country in their recreational vehicles, this is no fantasy, it's everyday life.

"Home is where you park it," a philosophical Jim Kimmins says of his RV-cum-residence. "We planned this out for eight years, and I think this is even better than we thought it would be," says his wife, Maralyn. The Kimminses, who've been on the road for about a year, used to park themselves in a far more traditional house in Canton.

They're part of a national boom in RV users. Sales of RVs, which for statistical purposes also include towable units such as campers and travel trailers, are expected to soar through the '90s as baby boomers enter the prime RV-buying years, age 45 to 54, according to the Recreation Vehicle Industry Association. According to a recent University of Michigan study, 44 percent of RV owners are 55 and older, while 39 percent are between the ages of 35 and 54.

The concept of living full time on the road is simple: Although far smaller than the average permanent home (the Kimminses' quarters encompass all of 300 square feet), today's motor homes provide comfortable, modern accommodations for their dwellers. RVers have refrigerators, computers, stereo equipment, microwaves and satellite dish-enhanced TVs at their disposal.

What they don't have, though, is what many people don't want anyway: Stress.

"I traveled for Chrysler for 30 years, going from airports to rental cars to hotels," says Jim Kimmins. "There's no Maalox or Tums in this lifestyle. The stress is gone."

Kimmins pauses. "Of course, if you don't like to tow or drive a motor home, then it's stressful - but you won't pick this lifestyle, either. If you want to sit at home and spend your retirement being a couch potato, this is not the lifestyle for you."

Rather, the life of a full-time RVer is nomadic, spent roaming from one campground to another with mostly the basic necessities. It is a chance to get back in touch with rustic America, something foreign to many urbanites.

"We take the back country roads, visit the small, little towns and meet people we've never had the opportunity to meet," Maralyn Kimmins says. "Having lived in the big city for so many years, you find there are things that happen there that don't happen in the smaller towns. Doing this really helps you regain faith in humankind and regain an appreciation for this nation that perhaps a person loses when living every day in corporate life."

This includes going to a local high school football game, participating in potluck dinners, going to band concerts and really becoming immersed in a community for weeks at a time.

RVers also disprove the adage that you can't take it with you. "The big advantage of this lifestyle is that you get to travel and see a lot, but you're also living at home," says Ron Hofmeister, who with his wife, Barb, has co-authored a book about full-time RV living called An Alternative Lifestyle: Living and Traveling Full Time in a Recreational Vehicle, and an RV-lifestyle newsletter, Movin' On. "If you have a house and wanted to do all this travel, it would be (cost) prohibitive."

"We don't have to worry about smoky motel rooms or sleeping in beds other people have slept in," says Barb Hofmeister. "Our home is always with us."

Along with the back-to-nature mentality that many full-timers share is another love: the lower cost of living. Ron Hofmeister, a former deputy finance director of the Michigan Department of Transportation, is considered an expert on budgeting for the lifestyle - and with more than seven years on the road, he has the credentials. He says full-timers pay up to 40 percent less in household expenses than people living at permanent addresses.

Depending on whether you buy new or used, and, of course the size of the vehicle, an RV suitable for full-time living ranges from around $40,000 all the way to $1 million for those bus-size behemoths used by rock stars. The Hofmeisters started out with a $30,000 vehicle and eventually upgraded to a larger, better-appointed model.

Rent, utilities, property taxes, maintenance costs and other fees associated with home ownership do not exist in the world of full-time RV residents. The Hofmeisters' monthly budget of $1,615 has only four major expenses besides their monthly RV payment: $350 for groceries, $300 for recreation or dining out, and $175 each for campground fees and fuel. The fuel is for both their RV and their accompanying Toyota pickup truck, which they use for excursions into town, as it's rather cumbersome to unhook an RV from its site just to go grocery shopping.

Hofmeister says even their budget can be chopped. "There are countless ways to lower campground costs, and $175 merely represents our experience based on a combination of membership parks, commercial campgrounds and public parks," he says.

Some parks reserve sites only for members, such as Smoke Rise, located east of Flint in Genesee County's Richfield Township. Smoke Rise, where the Hofmeisters and the Kimminses recently stayed, is a Coast To Coast campsite, meaning only members of that organization can stay there. Maralyn Kimmins says that by buying a membership prior to retirement and becoming full-timers, their campground costs are covered by $4-per-night vouchers.

The Hofmeisters get more mileage out of their campground budget by either "boondocking" (camping in roadside rest areas, parking lots and other safe and legal places to park) or by volunteering time at public parks.

A common type of public volunteering is called "campground hosting." A campground host is comparable to that of a park ranger proxy, assisting other campers with park information, rule interpretations, campsite selection and even emergencies requiring outside assistance.

Full-timers also pitch in when disaster strikes. When torrential rains flooded the Mississippi River a few years ago, many full-time RV dwellers revised their travel plans and headed to Iowa and Missouri to assist the cleanup effort.

Despite all the positives full-timers experience, they admit there are a few drawbacks. Minor expenses include mail forwarding and voice mail services - essential for full-timers because they don't have a permanent address and rarely hook a phone line into the RV.

"You'd better get used to the world of pay phones. Cellulars are nice - they're OK for emergencies - but they're not cost-efficient for everyday use," Ron Hofmeister says. "Any full-timer will tell you that not having a regular phone is the biggest drawback to this lifestyle."

"We have provisions to hook up a phone line, but the only time we use it is when we know we will be in one place for two or three months," Jim Kimmins says. "We call for messages daily and get first-class priority mail drops once a month."

Adds Maralyn Kimmins: "Because we don't have a phone, I can't access the Internet, which is something I'd really like to do. I feel in a way that I'm missing out on it."

Along with missing direct phone calls from children and friends, some full-timers miss having a permanent church or school system. (You don't have to be a retiree to partake of full-time RV living; younger people have been known to home-school their children.) They also sometimes have difficulty explaining the rationality of selling or giving away their worldly possessions in favor of life on the road.

"We trained our kids in terms of what we're doing," Barb Hofmeister says. "We told them, 'We're not jumping ship and we're not abandoning you. We want to keep in touch and we want you to call, and we will call back. And we will visit you, because our house has wheels."

"Much of our old furniture is divided up among our kids, and whenever we see them there's always a reminder of our former home there," says Jim Kimmins. "Most of our kids handled it pretty well, although we were asked a lot of times by one of our sons, 'Are you done yet?'"

"We know people very close to us who think - and have voiced to us - that what we are doing is absolutely crazy: 'You're so radical! How can you sell your house?'" he adds. "Let me tell you, I've had enough of shoveling snow! I've had enough of gardening! I've had enough of paying property taxes and association fees and getting nothing for it; to heck with that!"

This article originally appeared in The Detroit News.

Heads Held High

Wednesday, March 24. Real time said it was 8:59 p.m. But real time is not what the starters, bench, fans or coaches were staring at in disbelief while their lofty dreams faded away like tears in the rain.

Walled Lake Central, an upstart, scrappy, run-and-shoot team which surprised the high school basketball world with its undefeated record and was considered a "sleeper" pick by high school basketball experts, had been a huge underdog to Detroit Pershing. The Vikings had been determined to prove the doubters wrong, but their faithful were now eyeballing the scoreboard hanging over the Calihan Hall hardwood, its light bulbs ticking down toward the inevitable triple-zero formation.

No time. Game over. End of the road.

With it, the Vikings had seen a remarkable campaign come to a sudden end, with defending Class A champion Detroit Pershing using an array of weaponry to wake the sleepers from their dreams. Central had been dealt its first loss of the season, and 89-67 massacre which knocked the Vikings out of the Class A playoffs.

But they didn't go down without a fight. Even with everything the Doughboys threw at them - five first-quarter slam-dunks, a high-pressure defense and a 14-2 run to end the first half which gave Pershing a 48-27 halftime lead - the Vikings kept their heads up and their concentration on the job at hand. After all, wasn't it just eight days prior that Central used a 10-2 run the last 75 seconds of regulation to forge an overtime victory over Pontiac Northern? And then erase a 15-point difference down the stretch in regional finals action to stun hometown Port Huron a few days later?

So there was Central, with more lives than Catwoman, hoping there was still one more trick up its collective sleeve, one more magical performance in its Houdini bag. And the Vikings opened the second half with the word "comeback" etched in their souls, determined to erase the biggest margin they had faced all season and prove to the 4,000-plus fans that they were better than the scoreboard indicated.

It wasn't enough. For every Central spurt, Pershing responded with one of its own. Each Viking feed to Chris MacFarlane drew three Doughboys like a magnet. Central triples clanged off the rim (only 4-of-13 for the game). The flow of Pershing turnovers (and there were a lot of them) was balanced by its suffocating defense. And if the Doughboys weren't blocking a Central shot or playing near-perfect transition offense, they were capping showtime performances with demoralizing dunks.

Perhaps most telling of the way things were going was evident in the crowd reaction to a foul called on Central's Justin Cherfoil with about four minutes remaining. A chorus of boos filled Calihan - from Viking fans upset with the call on one of their boys, and from Pershing followers because the whistle stopped Carlos Williams from completing another uncontested slam.

Tears in the rain. Central, giving up three inches per man to the Doughboys, gave everything it could. But emotion can only carry you so far, and while the Vikings hustled and sweat and pushed and hustled well, Pershing did it better. And as the clock ticked down and the cheerleaders and fans enveloped their heroes, I was reminded of a poem penned by Rudyard Kipling:

If you can dream, and not make dreams your master,
If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with triumph and disaster,
And treat those two impostors just the same ...
If you can fill the unforgiving minute,
With 60 seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth, and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a man, my son!

Congratulations to Coach Steve Emert, his Vikings, and all the Central faithful.

This article originally appeared in the Spinal Column Newsweekly.

Learning Experience Well Worth Time Here

The only other time I sat down at the computer to pound out this kind of column, circumstances were different. I had been told several hours prior that my sportswriting days at the Marshall Chronicle were through.

My words - jotted out hastily - were a mushy farewell to the community where I had first experienced the joy and wonder of professional journalism.

Someone once told me that, in this business, you'll end up getting fired at least once. Not that it made me feel any better. But I swore the same would never happen again - that next time, the goodbye would be by my own volition, and my words would not be a teary-eyed departure, but rather a thought-out, positive look back at this business and the people I worked with.

Welcome to next time. After more than 22 months in Ogemaw County - an adventure I've come to label "Northeastern Michigan Exposure" - I am moving on to greener pastures.

When I interviewed for this position in June 1990, I had limited background in news writing. My journalism resume contained plenty of sports, light features and humor.opinion columns, but little in the way of hard news.

The Herald's managing editor - a wonderful mentor named Jeffrey Savitskie, whose name I could barely pronounce, let alone spell correctly - had a slew of applicants. That's the way it is in this competitive business. I'm sure many had far more news writing experience, or had more solid credentials on their resume.

But for some reason, he decided to take a gamble and hire me as West Branch's answer to Jimmy Olsen, cub reporter.

And for that I am grateful. What I have learned from this job is infinite.

The newspaper business is very competitive - not just in the hiring process, but a s a whole. There are people who believe journalists "do lunch" with political bigwigs, or have late-night pow-wows to follow party lines and decide just what is and is not news.

Nothing is further from the truth. True, my job as a reporter is to find out the facts. But it is also to "scoop" the competition, to produce a story the other papers - or even other writers at the same paper - don't have. We are elated when we have the inside track, deflated when beaten out on a hot piece.

The competitive edge. Not only is Jeffrey one of the most competent journalistic minds I have ever known, he is competitive. Like most journalists, he hates to be burned by the competition.

But there is more to Jeffrey than this. He is quick to suggest different angles on stories or point out flaws in writing technique. He can play "devil's advocate" with anyone on any topic, and do it well.

Jeffrey has an uncanny ability to analyze his workers individually, to know their limits and push them as hard as they can if they are not reaching what he feels are attainable goals. From personal experience, this can be frustrating ... mostly because if I'm not reaching those limits, I'm not sure who is harder to deal with - him or myself.

Jeffrey is also one of the most honest, fair people I have come across - qualities which make him not only a fine journalist, where being unbiased and honest are essential, but a fine human being.

I have been very lucky and fortunate to learn as much as I have from him in this business, a serious business where we are paid to watch history happen, write about what we have seen, heard and smelled, then do it again tomorrow.

And that's what counts. Today's story might be a Pulitzer winner. Or maybe it was a "no-brainer." It doesn't matter, because the news business is not about today - it's about tomorrow. In this business, no one is any better than what they will do tomorrow.

And for me, tomorrow is a whole new frontier, a vista waiting to be discovered. Ogemaw County, thanks for tolerating me and allowing me to be part of you - if only for a little bit.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.

Moms Should Top "Most Beautiful" List

People Magazine has published yet another edition of what it perceives as the world's "Most Beautiful People." What everyone seems to realize - without saying as much - is that the headline and ensuing photostory are not quite accurate.

"Most Beautiful Celebrities" would be more appropriate. This edition is filled with mini-essays and pictures of movie stars and pop singers.

Yes, they might be beautiful. Certainly on the outside, possibly in their souls. But are the people People named the world's Most Beautiful indeed the most beautiful? Everyone has their opinion. Mine is I don't think so.

I say this because one of the most beautiful women I know somehow failed to catch the editor's eye.

My mom.

Maybe she hasn't starred in blockbuster movies or hit Number One With A Bullet. That's OK. I didn't realize these were prerequisites for being beautiful.

They're not.

What makes Mom beautiful? Well, for starters, she took on a pretty difficult assignment when she became a mother. Especially since I was the first born, the oldest of three.

As many people have commented, raising a child is on-the-job training with no instruction book or corporate policy. While I do't remember a lot about my infant years, I think there could have been easier first babies to raise than me.

But this isn't about me, it's about Mom ... even though I couldn't write this without being a part of the story. After all, this is my perception.

What else makes Mom beautiful? She makes excellent chicken soup. The best. The type that head honchos at Campbell's would taste and say, "Hire her at any cost!"

If there were chicken soup cooking contests at county fairs, Mom would be the uncontested Chicken Soup Queen.

Mom also made the best Friday Night Sabbath Dinner this side of Jerusalem. Yes, it was predictable: chicken, wild rice, mashed potatoes and plenty of iced tea. But it was the sort of "predictable" we Gabas thrived on.

There's more to Mom's beauty than cooking, though. I think the biggest, most important, definitely most beautiful part about her is, she's been with me when I need or want her.

Mom has shared my triumphs - such as my Eagle Scout Court of Honor and graduation from high school and college.

She has been part of my daily routine, from homework and driving me to youth group activities to attending orchestra concerts and Little League baseball games.

In times of difficulty - and there have been far too many - Mom has been there to ease the pain.

Mom has been there for me, whether as a shoulder to lean on or an ear to hear my complaints. She and Dad reared their children in a loving, caring atmosphere, always showing attention to their children and never ignoring even the most minute details.

Mom has lived up to the very difficult job requirements of being a mom.

I can't be in Detroit to help Mom celebrate Mother's Day No. 28 this Sunday. But I raise a glass and offer a toast to her, and all other mothers who are at the top of their children's Most Beautiful lists.

Happy Mother's Day.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.

Hal's Latest Victory Is A Spot In Cooperstown

The phone call was a complete surprise to Harold. The 70-year-old Detroit native, now living in the suburbs, had hoped and prayed this special call would come through.

And now, as he listened to the voice of a Tampa Tribune reporter, he was in shock.

"Congratulation, Harold - you've been named to the Baseball Hall of Fame!"

What was Harold "Prince Hal" Newhouser's first reaction to the news? "Paul, I thought he was kidding me. I didn't know what to think," Newhouser said.

Even after the Detroit-area and national media began calling him for quotes, and stopping by for photos, he didn't fully believe his 30-year wait had ended.

"I told them, "You know, I haven't even been called by the Veteran's Committee, so I can't even verify that I've actually made it," Newhouser said. "And what's really funny is, the committee had my old phone number, not the new one, so they couldn't get a hold of me initially. Then the phone lines were all tied up, and they couldn't get through."

Verification finally came on St. Patrick's Day, and now Newhouser can circle August 2 on his calendar. The day his bronze mug joins baseball's other immortals on the Cooperstown walls.

Now, I never saw Hal Newhouser pitch for the Detroit Tigers. Never witnessed the lanky southpaw earn any of his 207 victories, or his 1945 World Series-clinching triumph over the Chicago Cubs.

No, I never saw him pitch. I did much better. I batted against the newest addition to the Baseball Hall of Fame. One of the perks of growing up with a former baseball pitcher as a next-door neighbor.

When playing pick-up streetball while in junior high and high school, I would trot to Newhouser's house and ask our resident baseball pitcher to toe the slab for us.

Newhouser, ever the kind and generous one, would always agree to take his place on our makeshift mound. Even after a full day on the job. He'd pitch an inning or two, then let us go back to facing someone of our own size and age.

When not facing us on the mound, Newhouser would tell us stories, such as about his duels with Cleveland Indian pitching rival Bob Feller. I might have grown up during the Tiger "depression years" of Jason Thompson and Duke Sims, but was brought up on the gospel of Hank Greenberg and Virgil Trucks.

And for years, we rooted for Newhouser to be voted into Cooperstown, where the best of the best are represented.

He was our neighbor, our friend.

But somewhere along the way, the voters - baseball's writers and Veteran's Committee - shoved Newhouser to the side. The excuse was, his best years came during World War II, when many of the top players were overseas.

Newhouser was voted the American League's Most Valuable Player in 1944-45, the only pitcher - and one of only nine players ever - to win the honor back-to-back. he won 29 games in '44, 25 more in '45 and a pair in the World Series that year.

In fact, 1945 saw Newhouser win the rare Pitcher's Triple Crown - leading the AL in wins, strikeouts and earned run average. He is the last AL pitcher to do this.

Newhouser acknowledges his wartime success. "But I won more than 200 games in 17 years," he said. "What about the other 150?"

What about those other seasons? Indeed, when the Boys of Summer came home after the war, the Detroit-born pitcher proceeded to win 26, 17, 21, 18 and 15 games the following five seasons - all with the league at full strength. This success, Newhouser said, should have been enough to quiet the critics.But he waited. Newhouser waited for the call since the early 1960s, never knowing if he was close to making the cut. he felt he belonged, but had no control over the decision.

Waiting is something Newhouser had to learn over the years, because when he had his game face on, he was the 1940s "Angry Young Man." He - and others - remember those tirades, when he would shatter light bulbs in the player's tunnel after being yanked from the mound.

But since leaving the field, Newhouser has mellowed. The Hal Newhouser I know does not resemble the one I missed by a few decades.

Except in the win column, where Hal's 208th victory is his ticket to Cooperstown.

Congratulations, Hal. The voters finally figured out something I've known for years.

This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.