No, Don't Be Stupid.

I'm a bit of a hoarder.
  
Check that. I have a serious, serious problem.
  
Once I get into something, I usually collect far more equipment related to that pursuit than I could ever need. I have piles of race skis and all of the stuff that goes with the sport. I have stacks of Jeep and Land Rover parts. Bike parts? Yes, I have far more than my share. Local bike shops carry less than I do.
 
Now it's RVs and campers. Fuck.
 
However, the real problem is my wife is interested too. She usually acts as an effective defense for overindulgence, but not now. All of her friends want their own campers or RVs, not realizing how much work they are or how much of a money pit they can be. So, my wife is on the lookout for old campers that are most useful as breeding grounds for hantavirus. She overestimates my skills as a carpenter, and rarely sees the receipts for all of the supplies that have to be brought to bear to prop one of these rotting hulks for five or ten years more of usable service life. To be honest, I don't add up the bills either, because it would probably kill the project where it stands. Instead, I put my head down, keep grinding away, and open my wallet.
 
I have to admit, it's hard for me to look at one of these moldering piles of pestilence and not see potential. Especially in the case of "canned ham" trailers with interesting design features. I know they will require a complete re-framing, and are only good for the trailer base, the aluminum skin to use as a template, and the "classic" fixtures that may or may not qualify for Superfund cleanup status. And yet, they're cool.
 
I sure as hell have no use for them. My RV is enough for me, and I have plenty of work to do there. I could rebuild them and sell them for a significant loss, because that's my genius financial plan. I could build them for my wife's friends, making them pay for my shoddy work.
 
Problem is, I have no good place to do the work. My neighbors have been very patient with me so far between the RV, my friend's death-trap camper, and all of the piles of construction debris. However, if this becomes a regular thing I will soon be visited by the municipality, investigating some anonymous claim. I know how this works. So, while my wife may have completely failed me as a stopgap against my baser tendencies, the threat of code violations and fines is pinch hitting for the time being.
 
I recognize this as a good thing. This means I can ride my bike. Riding my bike results in far fewer mangled hands and backaches. Riding means my weight stays somewhere in the range just below obese. Riding means my normally abrasive personality doesn't explode into something monstrous. Riding just makes me better.
 
I love a good project. I like seeing something take shape through my efforts. However, I'm going to have to be very, very, very selective, because I know where this road leads. I have a garage full of this road.
 
Now, on to Craigslist to look at campers...

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