Why I Keep Showing Up

A funny thing happened this week.

I was listening to my own podcast.

Now, before you decide I’ve completely run out of things to do in Bertie Bea, let me explain.

When you create podcasts, videos, shorts, blog posts, social media content, and whatever else falls under the Wandering Gypsy RV Life umbrella these days, you spend a fair amount of time listening to yourself. Most of the time, I’m not really paying attention to what I’m saying. I’m listening for audio levels, awkward pauses, places where I tripped over a word, or whether I accidentally called Bertie Bea by one of the previous RV names that still occasionally float through my brain.

This week was different.

I was reviewing a conversation I recorded back in February with my friend Doug Simcox from Beyond the Chutes. Doug and I had wandered into a discussion about tire pressure monitoring systems, which probably won’t surprise anyone who has followed me for very long. Put me in a room with RV owners long enough, and eventually we’re going to talk about tires, water systems, GPS units, or something else that can ruin a perfectly good travel day.

At some point, Doug asked me whether I was sponsored by the products I use.

I told him no.

Then I explained that I buy most of the products I use myself. If something is riding in Bertie Bea, it’s because I paid for it, tested it, and trusted it.

Then I said something that didn’t seem particularly important at the time.

I just want people educated and safe.

The conversation moved on.

Doug asked another question.

We probably wandered down three side roads before we got back to the original topic because that’s what happens when two storytellers start talking.

I didn’t think much about that sentence again until this week.

But sitting there in Rock Springs, Wyoming, while the wind was doing what Wyoming wind does and filing its daily grievance against RV owners, I heard those words again.

I just want people educated and safe.

And for some reason, they hit differently this time.

Maybe it’s because I’ve spent the last few weeks asking myself some hard questions. Maybe it’s because retirement looks a lot different when you’re living it than when you’re planning it. Maybe it’s because running a website, recording a podcast, writing books, creating videos, giving seminars, and trying to keep Bertie Bea pointed toward the next horizon occasionally feels like a lot.

Or maybe it was because for the first time, I realized that one sentence explained almost everything I’ve done since 2020.