Exiting the Berkeley subway station, I saw a Bernie shirt, which turned into a 15 minute conversation. I was on my way to babysit three sisters, then somehow the subject turned to the elections. The 10 year old says:
“Hillary only cares about herself.”
I asked why.
“I don’t know. She's married to Bill Clinton. He only cares about himself too.”
The 7 year old chips in: “I think Donald Trump is going to the worst president
John has focused on building intentional communities for the last few years, and I’m just as curious about unintentional communities, like the RV park we’re parked at, for instance. One of the two managers, another John, saw an interview with Bernie that he liked, although he was quick to say he’s a conservative. But Trump is too vulgar for his taste.
He grew up in the Bay, before spending some decades away in the military. He dug up the history of this RV park, which he has managed for three years, and it turns out this land, now filled in shoulder to shoulder with houses, were strawberry fields in the 1940s, and its seasonal workers lived on this lot. Not that much has changed in this respect.
Many labourers live here, with children (some who were even born in the park), some retirees, a man who couldn’t live under one roof with his wife and got himself an old Greyhound bus that has a descriptive phrase where the final destination used to be in the top front, and there’s a man who’s wife left him because he liked RV-life more than her. There’s a Stanford medical student, and sometimes cancer patients who get treated at Stanford stay here too, simply because it's the most affordable place to stay around here.
I received an email last night from Bruce, who saw our rv and is parked behind us. Our first ‘fan-mail’!
Bruce has been on the road since October, right after he finished his cancer treatment. His son lives in San Francisco, and Bruce vowed to never go through another Northeast winter again after a recent one produced ten feet of snow. He makes jewelry and voted for Bernie in Massachusetts. He’s slowly making his way to Oregon and doesn’t feel an urge to return to a home that's not on wheels.