I looked out the window this morning to see this familiar sight. Ron and four neighbor guys were shooting the breeze. Ron had been outside digging a hole to transplant a plant and shortly after that the other guys came out to talk. All work stopped until whatever important (or trivial) matter was thoroughly dissected. It was no different when we were in our motorhomes. In the RVing lifestyle, men usually do the outside work so anytime a man was outside working, the others would come by and who knows what would be talked about for upwards of an hour.

Do they have this need to talk to other men because they don't get to talk at home? Is it that only other men can talk their language? Or is it the opportunity to take a break from the project at hand? I have never seen a group of women standing outside talking here or in an RV park. The only time I see women standing around outside talking is when couples gather. So where are the women when the men are out in their little group? Are they glad to have their husbands out from under their feet for a while or do they even know he is gone? Do they feel left out like they may be missing something? I think it is neat that the guys do their thing, but I am just curious why women don't do the same. I think that women are more inclined to go to a neighbor's house, knock on the door and visit one on one. Men seem to like the group aspect. If you have any thoughts on this I'd appreciate your insight. Email me.

Ron used to complain sometimes in campgrounds that the guys picked the wrong time to talk. It never failed that when we were ready to take off in the morning and he was outside doing the hookups, the neighbor would start the conversation that we should have had the evening before. "Where you heading" leads to "where you from" to "how do you like your motorhome" and so on. Ron would always be polite at least for a while, but he would generally work while talking so the other guy would get the hint that we were moving on. 

To slightly change the subject I remember one time when we were at Hunting Island, South Carolina. We had been next to our neighbor for a week, but never saw them. Most of us stayed inside with the air conditioning running because the "no see ums" were so bad we couldn't leave the doors open and no one sat outside in lawn chairs. Except for the walks on the beach early in the morning, I stayed inside and tried to teach myself how to do water colors from a kit that I purchased at the camp store. The day our neighbor was leaving we both happened to be outside so started a conversation. They were in no big hurry because they lived near by. It turned out that Frank was a water color artist and could have helped me learn the art if we had met them earlier. From that moment we tried to get the know the neighbors early on. 

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