Each day parked outside the white picket fenced home of my dear friend and former colleague Kelly Brown has brought an interesting encounter with strangers drawn to the Avion….
Day One: the two skate punks who told me they “love it when white people get creative like this.” Yikes.
Day Two: the charming musician, straight out of Central Casting for a revival of Jersey Boys, who reached into the pocket of his suit jacket to show me the ziplock baggie containing the ashes of his beloved dog, Frankie, which he’s been carrying around since last summer. Yikes again.
Day Three: two Costa Mesa policemen responding to a complaint from one of the neighbors. Talk about the Big Yikes!
They arrived in separate black and white squad cars, blocking me in – apparently expecting to encounter something other than a middle-aged woman and her blind pug?
This is the first time I’ve been rousted by police since I’ve been on the road. Not wanting to get ticketed or towed, I was completely ready to move on and had located a reasonably priced RV park right on PCH. However, Kelly’s husband Jeff would have none of it. He got on the phone with the local police station, explained that I was their house guest, my truck was properly licensed and tagged, that I had every right to park on a public street just like any other vehicle, etc. etc. etc. A good lesson for me – thank you, Jeff!
Apparently as long as I’m unplugged and don’t actually sleep in the Avion, I may get a warning sticker (no ticket, no towing) but I can stay parked on the street for up to 72 hours. And that’s all I need: my friend Julie is flying into John Wayne tomorrow and we’re headed back across the border for a week in San Felipe.
Fingers crossed for a yikes-free journey back to Baja!