Thinking about starting over again. Where? When? How?

I keep trying for the brass ring and instead get stuck on the merry go round. This time I'm trying something a bit different. A bit, shall we say, risque.

I will be attempting to escape the confines of a mortgage, a cubicle wall, even constancy in place and community in exchange for a virtual world that travels with me in my 1981 Vanagon Westfalia camper. I am throwing out the of world of false permanence (a fixed place in space and time, or - to be mundane - walls and a rent check) in exchange for one without wires. And while I'll be living from a van, I'll also be working from the van and exploring not only the real world* but the online world of the virtual office. Essentially, I'm going to be a corporate nomad in a moving covered wagon heading for all points West of the Mississippi. I'm pushing the envelope of acceptable corporate practice, baby, all while existing in a big, bright blue non-aerodynamic relic.

Of course, recognition must go to my pioneering friend Dave Thorsrud. Unlike that brave soul he, I will keep working for "The Man" who will remain anonymous lest his hordes of troll-like HR minions roll down on me like ugly on Noriega. After all, just because I'm trying to avoid the world doesn't mean the world will avoid me. There be bills to pay up to that mo-fo - mortgages that stick, suck, and laze like Alaskan mosquitoes.

And the toys one can try and put into a VW these days. Those hippies really did have it cheap - there was few choices in what to jam into approximately 20 square feet of space.** Now, you can turn one into a swiss-army knife made of titanium and ready for a hot night of derring-do or sweet, sweet loving.

But to make this lifestyle "work" for me I have to document my trials (many) and tribulations (few? fewer?). And to do that I need to find the Internet. You might think this is a hard thing to miss, but that big, old collection of pipes seems to follow Interstates and satellites which are better aligned for taking pictures of troops in white boxer shorts that say, "I heart NY", than provide me with web-mana. Nope, cargo culting these days involves paddling the freaking raft until I crash upon a reef of wi-fi loving. And for this task, there is no better website than that found here for the (next) nearest hotspot.

Before you get all bored, and "let's just flip to the juicy bits" that HAVE NOT HAPPENED YET, PEOPLE, I'm including some links to pages containing yet more links that I find interesting, hilarious, and inspiring.

And I'll see you on the open road, at that wi-fi cafe (look for the bald man surrounded by 5 empty venti cups and electronic gear), or on the Internet.

Links

Books

* Coeur d'Alene, Spokane, Seattle, Bend, Corvallis, Portland, Ashland, Shasta, Fairfax, San Francisco, Monterey, White Mountains, Deep Springs, Joshua Tree, Death Valley, Tucson, Santa Fe, and every freaking National Park in UT

** By the way, don't quote me on that square footage. I was listening to my gut and it sounded sure. I listen to it when I'm not paying attention to Stephen Colbert.