It's August in America, and in other words, summertime across the desert and western plains.
I'm on a cross country ride from Pheonix to Kansas City on our tour bus, and who knew that solice could be found in a coffin sized bunk? I have spent more than half of the 24 hour journey vertically in my two and a half by six foot space. I share the bus with ten others, and although we get along quite well, my bunk can be a nice refuge. It's peaceful and at times cozy, buzz words for, cramped and small. To occupy my time, I read, I nap, I snack, I nap, I listen to my iPod, I nap, I watch movies and do some more napping. Each bunk is equipped with most everything anyone would want. Easily at my reach is the digital DVD/TV/radio console attached to the bunk ceiling with the swivel and neatly retractable 9" TV screen. To my right, attached to the wall, is the chocolate brown faux leather pocket for small storage, i.e. reading material, bottled water, etc. Above my head behind me is soft lighting provided for the obvious and set on a dimmer for, ummmmmm,.....ambience? Over my right shoulder are two air vents for steady air circulation, though I question what else could be circulating. To the right of me is an intercom connection, that isn't needed, behind me and to my left are two electrical outlets, that I actually use, and a cable connection, which I don't, and underneath my head is a pillow that I wouldn't write home about.
I know I should be thankful for the luxury items, but I'd much rather a toilet and a fully stocked fridge,...I'd never set foot out of this bunk. Whatever happened to essentials? Or is it that my modern day eminities are my essentials?
