Yesterday Miss Terry had her annual checkup with her oncologist, and we’re pleased to report that everything is fine, and she is still cancer free after almost nine years now. It is always a very frightening and emotional ordeal for Terry when this time of year comes around. I’m sure I’d feel the same way if I were boarding an airplane back to Vietnam. We appreciate everybody’s e-mails and positive thoughts for a good result for Terry yesterday.

After reading my comments on our recent experience with the FMCA, the things I said about Fleetwood a few days ago in the blog, and in view of past criticisms I have made about things in the RV world (namely, the poor quality of too many rigs), a longtime industry insider told me that the problem is that Terry and I are outsiders and can’t see the whole picture.

It’s true. After 10 years on the road and publishing the Gypsy Journal, almost nobody in the RV industry has ever heard of us.  We don’t go to the trade shows like the big Recreational Vehicle Industry Association (RVIA) event in Louisville, Kentucky every winter to rub shoulders and hobnob with the movers and shakers, so we have little credibility with them.

We are not a part of the RV industry as much as we are a part of the RV community. We live in an RV 365 days a year, and we have for over a decade. We’re not in an office or a boardroom somewhere deciding what RVers want and need. If you want to find us, look in your nearby campground or at an RV club potluck dinner, where the real RVers are! Those are the folks who have to live with the junk that so much of the RV industry produces.

Maybe I can’t see the big picture from the viewpoint of the RV industry, but from where I sit it’s pretty simple: build a decent product, sell it at a fair price, and stand behind it if something goes wrong. That’s not rocket science folks, it’s pure and simple Business 101!

I have been accused of putting down every RV manufacturer out there. Not true at all! There are some very good companies producing excellent rigs, and I have applauded their reputations many times. Companies like Heartland, Winnebago, Tiffin, and Newmar, who have been able to withstand the downturns in the RV industry because of the loyal customer base they have earned.

Notice that I said earned. Customer goodwill is not something that just happens when a salesman hands over the keys to a new RV to its owners. It’s easy for any company to smile and pat you on the back when they have your check in their pocket and the ink isn’t dry yet. The telling point is when you have a problem, and how they deal with it.

Do they solve it without a hassle, like Bob Tiffin is famous for doing at his company? Or do they give you a runaround, and tell you it’s your fault their workmanship was not up to par, like too many outfits in this industry are famous for?

By the way, I’ve never met Bob Tiffin, I don’t own an Allegro or Tiffin coach, and his company has never spent a nickel advertising with us. But I am very impressed with the way the man does business, and someday I’d like to shake his hand.

Thought For The Day – People are more violently opposed to fur than leather because it is easier to harass rich women than motorcycle gangs.

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Happy Mother’s Day to all of you Moms out there! I hope you have a wonderful day, surrounded by lots of love. If you have not called your Mom to tell her you love her yet today, go do it right now. She’s waiting to hear from you. Don’t worry about me and the blog, take your time and have a nice visit. We’ll be right here when you get back.

My own dear mother has been gone for almost 20 years now, and I sure wish she was still here for me to tell her that I love her. My Mom was a typical stay at home mother, and as the youngest of her eight children, I was always her baby, even when I became a grown man with children of my own. I know I gave her fits sometimes, and though she was a short little round woman, she could hold her own.

When I was a young soldier, I was offered an opportunity to go to jump school, and fell in love with the romantic idea of jumping out of airplanes for a living and wearing the coveted silver wings of an Airborne trooper. I called my Dad to tell him that I had been accepted to jump school, and his first words were “Why the hell would you want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane?” His next words were “DO NOT tell you mother about this until you’re done! I have to live with the woman!”

So we kept it our secret until I made it through school, and then Dad brought my Mom down to Fort Benning, Georgia for my graduation. She didn’t know what I was graduating from, just some Army training school. On graduation day, we were to jump onto a drop zone where our families were waiting to see us. So bright and early on graduation morning, my parents and a few hundred other people were brought out in buses to the drop zone and ensconced on bleachers.

One officer after another made his little speech, and then it was time for our dog and pony show. Far above, we got the word and began our jump. Meanwhile, on the ground, my Mom had gotten frustrated waiting for her son to show up, so she walked up to one of the men in uniform on the ground and said “My son is supposed to be graduating today. Do you know where he is?”

“Right up there, ma’am,” he told her and pointed to the paratroopers floating to the ground. That’s when all hell broke loose.

My chubby little mother pushed past the soldiers assigned to keep civilians off the drop zone and shook off their restraining arms as she stormed out into the middle of the graduates as they hit the ground and did their landing rolls, yelling “Nick, where are you? You get your butt down here right this minute! You know better than that! I didn’t raise you to break your legs doing something this stupid!” I swear I could hear her while I was still a hundred feet in the air!

And all the while confused young paratroopers were getting to their feet and trying to collapse their chutes as she stormed up to them demanding to know where I was. Meanwhile, my Dad (and much of the audience) was rolling around on the bleachers laughing their heads off.

Needless to say, when all the confusion died down, I had a lot of explaining to do! I’m not sure which put the fear of God into me more, facing my Mom, or a hastily called meeting with our battalion commander. But she did calm down enough to pin on my wings, and I was the only graduate that day to get a standing ovation!

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I love you, and I miss you.

Thought For The Day – A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.

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