Moonstone Bistro

Aaaahhh...camping.
The desire to make yourself as miserable as possible as a reminder of how good you have it.
After camping, just sleeping on a carpeted floor with 4 sturdy walls and a roof is sheer luxury.
Women know this inherently.
But men?
"Let's go camping!"
The words fall out of his mouth with such pride...desire even. Like its a right of passage into manhood. The collective desire to conquer the elements and prove yourself a warrior to your mate.
She shudders.
"Oh s**t" is her silent thought.
"Not again...."
She reminds him of the tent-peg fiasco.
"Its nailed down! We can ride out a hurricane!" He triumphs.
Hurricane my ass.
The passing thunderstorm shreds the so-called Storm Flap, blowing gusts of rain through the mosquito netting while the both of you use your body weight to prevent the tent from blowing to Alaska.
You gently remind him.
As extra currency, you add the bit about having to hoist your food in and out of a tree every time you want a bite of granola.
"Oh!" You add.
"And the mystery drinks from all the bottles with the lables soaked off from sitting in the cooler."
You mention the soggy bread, the gross mayonnaise and various condiments festering in the swamp water that used to be ice in your Yeti.
Its not that you dont love the outdoors.
You do.
The hiking, waterfalls, wildflowers, lakes, fields, ocean, redwoods, wildlife...spectacular.
And when your done, you'd like to WASH YOUR FACE WITH WARM WATER, like a human who has evolved out of the Stone-Age.
And the 'Bathroom Situation!' Don't even start!
Men p*e standing up.
That's a HUGE advantage when every time you squat there's a cocklebur or starthistle or funny looking bug...no one needs that hassle.
Not to mention the splash...
He starts with the
"It will be fun! C'mon! It will be DIFFERENT this time! I swear!"
Screw that.
Its time to Level Up.
Break out the Big Guns.
You look him dead in the eye.
Hold his face in your hands for good measure.
And you say it.
You speak directly to the machismo of His Soul.
"You need to learn how to back up a trailer."
His mouth drops and you feel his skin grow clammy.
You press on.
"I promise I wont divorce you when you get stuck at a gas station. I'll get out and stop traffic when you hop over the curb and have to swing extra wide. I'll stand in your mirror and let you know how much further you have before you back over a cliff."
He's stammering, still trying to peice his pride together.
You press the attack.
"Warm water! Showers! A bathroom only WE use!"
He starts to blubber but you press on...
You mention being warm and dry when its cold, wet and windy. You throw in hot meals, baked chicken, having a mirror, shaving, sitting at a table under a light so you can see what the hell your actually eating.
You mention a fireplace...cause its romantic...and how nice it is to see Elk and Bear from behind a window instead of feeling the steam from their nostrils through .2 microns of very non-protective tent cloth...
He's breathing regularly now. You feel his pulse coming down.
Time for 'The Kill.'
"You have a Big Truck".
You say.
"It can haul anything."
You say.
POUNCE!!!
"I found a camper..."
And you let him have it!
Both barrels!
27' Rockwood Ultra-Light Bumper-Pull.
3 slide outs! (Rare in a camper this size!)
Dual propane tanks!
Dual Batteries!
Fireplace, 3 burner stove with oven, full size fans, full size shower, double winter package insulated with wrapped underbelly and heated tanks...
No more lugging ice-chests cause you have a fridge and freezer!!
You can have Ice Cream!
Custom blinds, Xtra large tanks..
Queen Bed.
No more sticks in your hair, some pathetic campers matt between you and the roots and pebbles of the earth.
May as well sleep on a paper towel for all the good those do.
And the travel!!
You can pull over and use the bathroom! Your own bathroom!! Whenever you want!
And wash your hands when your done!!
Like a PERSON!
Plus there's a closet, so you can wear more than one pair of jeans.
Rain?
Ppffssshhh...you can even sit outside under the awning drinking wine.
Now THATS camping.
And trying to sleep when its 100 degrees in a TENT???!?
HAHAHAhaaaa...forget about it.
So click on the brand new AC unit and bring it down to 74.
It has 5 brand new tires. (Yes, the spare too!)
Roof fully sealed.
Wheel bearings repacked, slide outs greased and all rubber lubed.
Comes with the anti-sway hitch, hoses, sewer lines, electrical connectors...even a pair of generators so you can bomb out to his favorite middle of no where spit and still live like a queen.
Because you deserve that.
And if he wont do it...
Well...
You Don't Need No Man.
Get it yourself!
Roll up next to him while he's shivering his boy-parts off, crank up the tunes, bake some cornbread and take a shower while the he stands in the rain holding his tent down.
Cause its 2025.
You dont do cave-camping anymore.
Give me a shout on FBM.
I'll give you a tour.
Its for sale now and its clean and perfect and ready.
So now, you can take HIM camping!
$25,000 obo.

Dear California:
"But...its an electric fan motor, not Crack Co***ne!"
He sighs.
His voice is apologetic but the answer is no.
It's the third electrical HVAC parts store I've called.
None of them will sell me the fan motor I need to fix the HVAC unit at my house.
This is a problem.
I need a special license.
A particular type of contractors license.
To buy a fan motor.
Yes.
12:37 am.
"I'm HOT!!"
I open my eyes.
She's right. I'm hot too.
The house is stuffy and uncomfortable.
Stumbling about, I find myself outside staring at my HVAC system at 1 am.
It clicks on with a bang and makes a horrid loud buzzing.
YANK!!
I pull the fuses before more damage can be done.
Good news is....the fan isn't working. Its a mechanical problem.
Easy-Peasy.
Flopping back down into bed, I whisper Hero Words.
"I can fix it."
She smiles through her sleep and mumbles "Of course you can."
And I can!
If California would let me!!
Is this what 'On the Spectrum' means??
California...I think you might be Neurodivergent!
You passed a LAW that says citizens have a RIGHT TO REPAIR their products and property....but also wrote a law that says you have to have a special Contractors License to buy....a FAN MOTOR??
Are you on drugs??
Or just Bi-Polar?
But wait....there's more!
You passed a LAW protecting workers from excessive heat. All workplaces must be below 84 degrees.
Unless...they are owned by the State of California.
Wait...what?
Yeah...you exempted YOURSELF from your OWN LAW because...well...the synaptic pulses in the Governors Mansion are on....'The Spectrum'.
Must be nice to not have to follow your own rules.
I'm guessing all that hair gel is causing an impediment to rational thought.
8:30 AM.
Its 88 degrees at home.
My house is technically illegal to work in at this point!
Its a 'Hostile Work Environment' (uh...yeah. my wife is roasting to death. Hostile is an understatement)
I'm in violation of one law and can't exercise my Right to Repair without breaking another!!
It's pushing 9AM.
I've been on the hunt for a motor since 6AM.
I'm wondering if I'm better off stealing one.
I'd rather be in jail than a 100 degree house with my soon to be very unhappy wife.
I explain to her that the part is available here in town, but no one can sell it to me.
She is NOT happy.
I have half a mind to send her to Sacramento, put her on the lawn outside Hair Gel's office.
Guaranteed these half baked laws would be changed in less than an hour.
Hell hath no furry like a woman scorned! (Or in a 100 degree house!!)
The shop opens at 9am.
I am standing outside the door of Hunts Electrical.
I am praying he will have the part I need.
Hunts is the only electrical supply shop open to the public I could find.
It looks like the workshop that built 'The Iron Giant'.
Every electric motor ever made is strewn about the place.
It's fantastic!
There is no way the man who runs this shop doesn't have my part.
Sure enough, after less than 30 seconds of diagnostics, he pulls a motor from the shelf, hacksaws the shaft, cuts wires, snaps bolts (everything I just said is true!) And....Viola!
Brand new motor in a box!
Ready to go!
HaHAA!!
By 9:45 the temp is 98 degrees.
Sweat is stinging my eyes, but I have the motor bolted in, fan installed. I follow the wiring pattern Hunts Electrical gave me aaaannnd...
'Whirrrrrrrhuummmm'
Like a kitten.
I hear her from inside the house.
"It WORKS!!"
My 'Hero Words' delivered!!
I fixed it!
But California...Sweetie...it shouldn't be like this.
This relationship toxic!
Your On-The -Spectrum, Neurodivergent, Bi-Polar self is constantly saying one thing but doing another.
Making people do things that you don't do yourself!
But I can help!
All you need to do is require a special license to buy Crack Co***ne....and make electrical motors legal for anyone to buy.
It would be a step in the right direction.
Or....and this is extreme parenting here...I can send my very unhappy and overheated wife to your door for an Intervention.
Trust me. You don't want that.
You're better off just taking your mood meds.