Financial security, an equal share of rewards, and an opportunity to see the fruits of our labors be shared, rather than compensated at the "going-rate for labor," these are the reasons to reject the status quo. Capitalism is a broken system; it promises the opportunity to leverage capital into further gain, but the system is predicated upon rewarding pre-existing, pre-distributed shares of wealth to a tiny fraction of the populace, while undervaluing, and under-rewarding, the sweat and toil that turn the wheels of a capitalist economy.
I met and learned from tons of working-class people as I tore-down and rebuilt the BernBus in preparation for our trip, and a common theme from all of their complaints is that the system wasn't built for them. To them, it's all about a system that takes hard-earned money from them, then uses it to pay for corporate tax breaks, global war, and pork-barrel projects, but leaves little behind to pay for the needs of the common people.
Before diving too deep into the proposed solutions to these problems that are suggested and championed by Senator Sanders, this is a road-trip by the way, so we've got to keep the wheels moving, and that means kicking the tires, test runs, and occasional breakdowns before we set forth.
After we picked up the RV towards the end of February, we knew of a few projects that had to get done: get fire and carbon monoxide detectors, seal some holes, re-wire some appliances, throw a little tape on this and that, check; test all the systems, fill up the tanks, and drive s-l-o-w-l-y around the city to get used to this rig, check; and unload the storage unit, load the RV, and organize ourselves and our belongs, ch...aaah, so that's still only part-way done, but that's how things go sometimes.
After realizing certain pricier repairs and upgrades (HID headlights, new brakes, etc) seemed like a coin-flip as to whether they were good investments, we decided to take a trial-run up to Chico, CA to visit a friend with land, natural springs, and an affinity for crystals, conversation, and community. We made the 3-hour trek north to his 110-acre herbarium where we spent a few days walking the land, drinking fresh spring water, and wondering when the rain would stop and where to empty the black & grey-water tanks, a task I had ne'er before quite considered until I realized you have to learn sometime, somewhere, and somehow how to handle the shit that life throws your way, especially when it's literal and follows you wherever you roam.