For which of you, intending to build a tower,
sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost,
whether he have sufficient to finish it?
Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it,
all that behold it begin to mock him,
Saying, This man began to build, and was not able to finish.
—The Gospel of Luke 14:28-30 (KJV)
SO--IF YOU'VE READ THIS BLOG MUCH, at all, you know of our dream to have an Airstream trailer. We thought we were so close. How close? Close enough that I even opened the polls, so to speak, here on About Pops, asking for help in choosing an interior color scheme.
Well, it’s a long, long story. But it comes down to this: I “sitteth not down, and counteth the cost” (thoroughly enough anyway). And now you are free to mock me saying, “This man began this adventure to have an Airstream, but to this point has not been able to git ‘er done.”
Turns out, when I finally did sit down to count the cost of the Airstream model I had been coveting; let’s just say reality setteth in. The weight of the cost was not just in dollars; however, I did grossly underestimate the sum thereof. Along with things like doc fees, freight charges, taxes, extension mirrors, weight distribution hitch, anti-sway bars, hoses, blocks, chemicals… ad nauseum; there is also the cost of stress, anguish and uncertainty. Suddenly my visions of sitting under the awning of this silver beauty alongside a rushing stream on a cool morning, enjoying a cup of coffee, was overtaken by visions of a sitting alongside I-70 just outside of St. Louis on a 109 degree August day with a flat trailer tire, and being so broke I would have to work until I was 80, having nightmares of Dave Ramsay warning of careless spending.
Emotions are mixed. On the one hand, the horrific images of a holding tank disaster are gone, as are the potential panic attacks of pulling an aluminum carcass down the highway through the onslaught of a sudden Oklahoma hail storm. Unfortunately, also gone are those dreams of adventure on the open road I had imagined for us in our silver streak with the salsa interior.
Really though, deep down, I know the adventures will continue. They will just be different. You see, my Amazing-Missus and I are best friends. We were married eight years before our first child was born. (We didn’t want anyone to speculate that we “had” to get married [wink-wink]). So, living life together isn’t new to us. We’ll be fine.