I titled this blog Mobile Kodgers because it began as a report on the first Mobile Codgers Rendezvous---which I organized. I've kept the title and expanded my reports to include everything that I find interesting in my travels. I walk in the footsteps of Thoreau, "advancing confidently in the direction of my dreams", proving with my life that deep freedom is possible and easier than imagined. See links to purchase my book 40 Years a Nomad or see videos of me reciting a few poems.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
A Useful Kodger Secret---Free Storage
Don't want to carry it around? Might want it later? Box it or wrap it and bury it out in the desert on public land. Here we are retrieving a box we buried 6 years ago. Be sure to write down directions--memories are fallible.
I have stuff buried all around the country!
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
The King of Kodgers Tells His Story
Since many of you have asked, here’s the short version:
Forty or so years ago, I was in a miserable job in New Orleans, LA, yearning for freedom, with pictures from Arizona Highways magazine taped all over my office. Then I read Walden by Thoreau and saw how I could be free. Simplicity, frugality and savings could liberate me. I managed to save $5,000, quit my job, and enjoyed splendid leisure for 2 years, wandering the
country on a motorcycle.
I was hooked! The joy of rising each morning, doing only what charmed me, became a benevolent obsession. So I determined to win my permanent freedom.
I bought a large, burned, abandoned house with borrowed money, moved in, and slowly renovated it by renting out rooms as I completed them. In five years, I sold it with a profit of $50,000. I did a similar thing for the next five years, and called it quits. Most people vastly overestimate how much money they need to retire. Becoming a mobile codger cuts your expected amount at least in half. Here’s my financial story expressed poetically.
A Bucketful of Freedom
Wealth is like a leaky bucket
Beneath a water spout.
Running water is our income;
Expense is leakage out.
And the measure of our wealth
Is how long we could hold out
If some sad misfortune
Turned off the water spout.
Most folks focus on the spigot,
Seeking increase of the flow.
I’ve focused my attention
On the leakage down below.
I’ve sought to plug my bucket
By reducing my expenses,
Holding in my savings
Like a cowboy mending fences.
With patience I waited for bargains,
Didn’t count on Lady Luck,
Lived well below my means,
Getting bang for every buck.
When water rising in my bucket
Reached that calculated mark,
I left behind my drudgery
And flew off like a lark.
So I think my wealth is great
Because my needs are small,
And I won’t have to work again
With any luck at all.
Money can purchase freedom
If you have the guts to buy it.
I know folks with beaucoup bucks
Too afraid to try it.
I am buying freedom
With the savings in my pail,
‘Cross highway seas of adventure
In my land yacht I will sail.
I guard my nest egg with the care of a mother crocodile. It produces enough to live well if I live simply. Indeed, I find that a slight surplus builds up over time, so that when a new vehicle is needed, no damage is done to the nest egg.
Most Americans, I think, at some point in their lives will receive a chunk of money, perhaps an inheritance, a settlement, or a windfall of some sort. Most will fritter it away because they cannot quantify life (calibrate cost/benefit), and therefore, pay the terrible price of enslavement and drudgery. Over the years, I’ve heard many sad tales of windfalls squandered.
I have my system down to a fine science, and will share all my techniques with anyone. Almost everything I know, I absorbed from others. Indeed, I have found that anyone I engage even moderately has something to teach me. I willingly learn. It is one of my finest qualities.
Forty or so years ago, I was in a miserable job in New Orleans, LA, yearning for freedom, with pictures from Arizona Highways magazine taped all over my office. Then I read Walden by Thoreau and saw how I could be free. Simplicity, frugality and savings could liberate me. I managed to save $5,000, quit my job, and enjoyed splendid leisure for 2 years, wandering the
country on a motorcycle.
I was hooked! The joy of rising each morning, doing only what charmed me, became a benevolent obsession. So I determined to win my permanent freedom.
I bought a large, burned, abandoned house with borrowed money, moved in, and slowly renovated it by renting out rooms as I completed them. In five years, I sold it with a profit of $50,000. I did a similar thing for the next five years, and called it quits. Most people vastly overestimate how much money they need to retire. Becoming a mobile codger cuts your expected amount at least in half. Here’s my financial story expressed poetically.
A Bucketful of Freedom
Wealth is like a leaky bucket
Beneath a water spout.
Running water is our income;
Expense is leakage out.
And the measure of our wealth
Is how long we could hold out
If some sad misfortune
Turned off the water spout.
Most folks focus on the spigot,
Seeking increase of the flow.
I’ve focused my attention
On the leakage down below.
I’ve sought to plug my bucket
By reducing my expenses,
Holding in my savings
Like a cowboy mending fences.
With patience I waited for bargains,
Didn’t count on Lady Luck,
Lived well below my means,
Getting bang for every buck.
When water rising in my bucket
Reached that calculated mark,
I left behind my drudgery
And flew off like a lark.
So I think my wealth is great
Because my needs are small,
And I won’t have to work again
With any luck at all.
Money can purchase freedom
If you have the guts to buy it.
I know folks with beaucoup bucks
Too afraid to try it.
I am buying freedom
With the savings in my pail,
‘Cross highway seas of adventure
In my land yacht I will sail.
I guard my nest egg with the care of a mother crocodile. It produces enough to live well if I live simply. Indeed, I find that a slight surplus builds up over time, so that when a new vehicle is needed, no damage is done to the nest egg.
Most Americans, I think, at some point in their lives will receive a chunk of money, perhaps an inheritance, a settlement, or a windfall of some sort. Most will fritter it away because they cannot quantify life (calibrate cost/benefit), and therefore, pay the terrible price of enslavement and drudgery. Over the years, I’ve heard many sad tales of windfalls squandered.
I have my system down to a fine science, and will share all my techniques with anyone. Almost everything I know, I absorbed from others. Indeed, I have found that anyone I engage even moderately has something to teach me. I willingly learn. It is one of my finest qualities.