THE DOMESTICATED BACHELOR

by Jonathan Bonsai Perry

For years, the mobile home industry, aka trailer makin’ folks, have bemoaned the negative perceptions suffered by their metal box houses.  Things have gotten so bad that trailers are no longer at the top of the bachelor pad wishlist.  This raises the question, “Why are trailers so poorly regarded?” Why are they not as highly esteemed as their wheeled relatives, the RVs? Really, the two are much like second cousins. Or step-siblings who haven’t talked to each other since that one weird hot night in Vegas. They’re both made of metallic materials and are square-ish and these commonalities should serve to bond them in the deepest kinship since the Hatfields and the McCoys.

Though the RV, Recreational Vehicle, really is a vehicle that you kind of live in (and is a home that is mobile), it gives the impression that you’re just passing through on your way back to your demi-mansion, if not the retirement village, sometime after you‘ve visited the grandkids, every living relative, and 65% of the fruit stands and 90% of the flea markets between Maine and Washington. RVs seem to carry a whiff of excessive wealth and free time, whereas the mobile home, while it is larger than the RV, is not a vacation home, is really your only home, and is much harder to mobilize. They’re much less expensive than normal houses, they’re smaller, and are often set in less than ideal locations,  sometimes near neighbors that are considered questionable. But mobile home parks seem to breed something even less desirable: TORNADOES!

Scientific research has shown that mobile homes attract tornadoes in greater numbers than other types of homes or mobile devices (ok, my personal research isn‘t scientific). Tornadoes are awfully fond of the South and the Midwest, having grown up there playing ball, but they’ve also been known to go geographically out of the way, to the ends of the world places like California and Great Britain, just to track down a shiny new mobile home park for a trophy smackdown.

Not only does it probably have something vaguely to do with the metal building doing some weird magnetic ionization with the magical air masses (or not really), but it’s like an easy challenge for a brash young tornado with lots of moxie and hormones. The older, more experienced tornadoes are more constrained and don’t feel the need to destroy every little insignificant metal can along the way. They’ve learned to save up the good stuff for important buildings like the art-nouveau roller skating museum downtown and the historic taco stands so prominent in our bean-and-cheese-lovin’ culture. They’re more likely to make the papers this way. And that’s all they really care about.

One day, every mobile home on earth will invariably be destroyed or relocated by a strong gust of tornadic activity. Yea, verily! For as it is written in the ancient scriptures, unless thou buildest thy mobile homes with rubber materials and perhaps shape them as round balls, thou art just asking for it.

Don’t you see the logic? Mobile homes are going to be blown around anyway, like crazy pieces of belly button lint near a box fan, so you might as well build your trailers with a malleable component that will do as little damage as possible. Insurance rates would drop for everyone, entire neighborhoods could be rearranged with little effort, and joy would reign eternal. You could just roll your home down the street to a better hole. I think it would be swell to watch a ball-house roll and bounce as it settles into a new location near a golf course where the holes are all sizes. That would fix the tornado problem. Fewer witches would be squashed to death. They’d just suffer severe concussions instead. But what do we care anyway? They’re witches, after all, and are lucky the burnings were called off last week.

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