I like stuff.

But stuff breaks.

There’s a Bob Dylan song in which the old man croons, “Everything is broken.” Sometimes I feel this way about my stuff.

What’s wrong with my stuff?

Why does all of my stuff seem to break?

Because everyone’s stuff breaks.

Truthfully, we’ve had pretty decent luck with our Airstream.

Problems? Sure, we’ve had some issues.

Our Moen kitchen faucet broke. I mean, the handle just snapped off in my hand. No, I’m not that strong.

The Moen faucet handle itself is made of robust heavy metal (and I'm not talking about Iron Maiden). But alas! It's all held together by a flimsy plastic connection.

Our power jack broke. The crucial gear inside the jack mechanism is apparently made of styrofoam, because it breaks whenever the wind blows hard, or a mosquito lands on it. Ever tried to manually crank a power jack? It’s not a lot of fun.

When this baby fails, the 15-second job becomes a 15-minute one.

Our cabinet door latches break. They are made of a special plastic that is both expensive and guaranteed not to last. We try to keep extra latches on hand. They cost about $7 a piece, and you typically get about three uses before they snap like dry twigs.

Our day/night curtain shade plastic rings break. They must be made out of the same “special” plastic – perhaps from recycled bubble wrap?

Once the bottom of one of our bedroom storage drawers fell out. Kristy’s father Harry repaired the damage. Harry actually improved on the factory’s work by installing about ten times the number of holding screws into the drawer. It’s now incredibly sturdy. We can haul cement blocks in the drawer and it won’t fall out.

Our stereo broke. In electronics parlance, I guess we should say that it “died.” Harry plugged a new one in its place.

Our refrigerator didn’t break. It shipped with a flaw that threatens to start a fire, a nasty one not of the camping variety. So even though it wasn’t broke, we had to get it fixed. (A clear exception to the old axiom, “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.”)

Then there was that pernicious water leak. Nothing like wet carpet under bare feet to put a damper on your cozy camping cocoon.

Are you frightened? Don’t be. Our Airstream has been fine, and overall seems to be a well constructed piece of kit. Airstreams really are built by hand. At first glance this seems charming and reassuring, but it also means that minor construction variances abound.

Everyone’s stuff breaks. I guess my driving message here is that you’ve gotta make like a Boy Scout, and BE PREPARED.

Carry a well stocked tool kit.

Carry some extra door latches, jack gears, and whatever seems to be made of absurdly fragile material. (Better yet, if possible locate a more sturdy replacement.)

And if you aren’t handy with those tools, you better find some friends who are! 🙂

Recently when cleaning our Airstream, I came across a crumpled old list I’d made several years ago. The list includes items we planned to pack before embarking on our Long Long Honeymoon. I’m not usually so organized. I must have really been excited and/or worried about our trip.

Uh oh! I think we forgot the Ohm meter...

Did we bring all this stuff? Maybe not everything, but I suppose we brought most of it. We also brought a number of items that didn’t make this initial list! Hmmmm, I think we’ve found a topic for a future video…