This is one of the most annoying situations I have ever encountered with government and I don’t know where else to find understanding. Government just going out of it’s way to stifle initiative and free enterprise.

First, an explanation of Recreational Vehicles. There are Class As, Class Bs, Class Cs, trailers and campers. Class As are vehicles which were built to be an RV. They fairly shout “My daddy made it big”! They are typically large. Class Bs are converted vans, Westphalia campers being about the smallest, and they get a bit bigger. I have one of these. Class Cs are built on truck chassis’s with a substantial structure behind that. They shout “I made it pretty big!” This applies to Class Bs, which I have. They are for people whose address is a license plate. Folks who tend to need to move often, who are very aware of the city limits.

I believe Class B RVs have a problem not prevalent in Class As or Class Cs. We have very limited room, and there is no provision for refuse and garbage. Most of us hang plastic bags from various knobs and try to throw them out at rest areas, parks and truck stops.

In the meantime we brush against them breaking them open, step on them, and in general fight the presence of the stuff all the way.

I solved that problem, a beautiful, elegant solution, one which would have made my fortune and my mother proud. She was proud that I finished the 6th grade, had precious little else to be proud of after that, except for this. And now she’s dead. She died never forgetting I finished the 6th grade! She was so proud she used to remind me of it rather often. Afraid I was too modest and might forget, I think.

But the government, the Patent Office in particular, has stomped on my dreams and an easier living for every Class B’er now and in the future.

My plan was simple, effective and cheap. Maybe that’s why they didn’t like it. Here it is, I may as well tell the world since I can’t patent it. Damned government.

I was going to cut a hole in a clear area somewhere near the drivers seat, and hinge that part of the floor. A small handle which would slide through the lid so as to be flush with the carpet would be included.

When there was any garbage or refuse at all, one would simply pull the handle up and quickly drop the material through the hole. Fast, easy and cheap.

The Big Rigs would either chew it up to dust in no time, or it would be blown off to the side of the road. That would give those volunteers something to do so as to deserve to have their names on the signs: “This section of highway is cleaned by the maids of Big Mama’s Motel and their families on their own time.” (A quarter mile after that a billboard capitalizes on the favorable publicity: “You never have to sleep alone at Big Mama’s” with “Bill Clinton slept here!” under that. Just so you won’t forget in another quarter-mile there is a billboard with a picture of Monica Lewinsky winking. Just a head shot. No, really, just her head.)

Everyone wins, no losers, and I would have made my fortune. Except for the government, in the form of the Patent Office, standing in the way of progress, initiative and private enterprise one more time. Ayn Rand would have gladly written a book about this, maybe “Bowser Shrugged”, a strong, craggy hero fighting the government and other moochers, but she’s dead, too. It’s just not right.

I’m fed up, I’ll tell you. I’m not going to vote for anyone, and may just move to rural Paraguay, where they understand the human condition. Except that they don’t have roads.

I don’t get excited very often, no more than 6 or 8 times a day, but I’m really chapped over this one. Fries my frijoles.