P+M Hit The Road

You may have heard of the not so new phenomenon distillers use to enhance the complexity of their precious cargo.  They “ship-age” whiskey, loading sealed wooden barrels of their most cherished spirits onto rusty freighters sailing the mighty seas through numerous climate variations, absorbing other worldly cultures, sloshing, rocking, withstanding salty sailor profanities finally maturing, adopting a sophistication worthy of their lofty price tags which are just about as high as their miles traveled.   Ok, our RV doesn't sail the high seas or brag about all inclusive amenities but it is a certified “earthquake on wheels” absolutely capable of providing enough turbulence to shake a few spirits loose.  Let me tell you a story…. Preparing for our annual trip to the sun last year, we loaded up the RV first, as always, with enough bourbon, gin, tequila, beer, wine to survive well into our next generation golden years, along with a few scraps of food, piles of socks and u...

RV renegades heading west, home in the rear view, a full moon gently guiding a streaked wintry sunrise.  Paul is chauffeur extraordinaire pumped up in his brand new ride, the very first and the very last freshly minted straight off the lot pickup truck.  Decades of motoring disasters, head scratching, tire kicking, years of emotional trauma and all cursing imaginable have earned Paul this marvel of trucking Nirvana.  Not certain the monster would even fit in our garage,  he tore through the wall to create a crafty window box for the front grille adding exactly enough clearance to ease the garage door closed within a breath of the tailgate.  “Baloney skin tight,” Paul's a miracle worker and master of old geezer morsels of wisdom.  Our bank account wants to know where our next meal is coming from but hey there is enough ramen and saltines in the RV to last through Tucson.  We're golden.   Old Red treated us to an eye popping finale a few months...