The Day My Airstream Outshone David Sedaris

The phone rang one afternoon. A location scout was on the line, looking for an Airstream to use in a film based on David Sedaris’s short story C.O.G. (Child of God) from his book Naked. Sedaris, on screen for the first time. Big deal.

Naturally, I thought of my 32’ Excella 500. Gorgeous. Polished. Camera-ready. But the catch? They wanted it parked for months in a field at the base of Mt. Hood. Which sounds very Walden Pond, except my Excella wasn’t just a trailer—it was my house. Where exactly was I supposed to sleep while my living room was being lit for continuity? In the director’s tent?

Here’s the thing about Airstreams: they’re like potato chips. You can’t have just one.

Lucky for them, I had another card to play—my 24-foot, ’78 Argosy. Argy, as we called him, had already been converted into a production studio where filmmaker Christopher Stephens and I cranked out syndicated segments for TrailerChix. We ran that rig like a Navy submarine: tight quarters, zero wasted motion, everyone knowing which lever to pull and when. We were producing three, sometimes four, network-quality segments a week— without breaking a sweat. People in “real studios” took months to do the same thing.

So the scout drags the director and DP out to see Argy, but the minute they stepped inside Excella, they looked around like they’d just walked into a magician’s trunk. They started listing off all the things they couldn’t live without:

“TV?”

“Have it.”

“Juicer?”

“Got it.”

“PlayStation? Stereo system?” “Both.”

By the time I dropped, “And, oh yeah—I’ve got central vac, surround sound, and a heated towel bar,” their jaws were somewhere around the axles.

Look, here’s the truth: bigger isn’t better. Fancier isn’t smarter. Newer isn’t necessary. The only upgrade you actually need is grit—and maybe the occasional heated towel bar.

Living tiny isn’t for everyone. You’ve got to be willing to toss the clutter, the gadgets, the dust-collectors you swore you might use someday. But once you do, what’s left is room for the good stuff—creating, connecting, and proving people wrong.

And as far as I’m concerned? Argy didn’t just cameo in C.O.G.. She stole the damn movie.

WHAT I’M WORKING ON:

The faucet in my bathroom finally gave out. To reach the fittings, I had to take a saw to it—so now I’m building a new countertop. SUCH A DISTRACTION! Living a life of voluntary simplicity can feel anything but simple sometimes. But then I remind myself: if I lived in a conventional house, I’d still have plenty of problems—just bigger ones. So this week, I’ll be out hunting for fittings and patience in equal measures.

No polish. Just shine.

May your next chapter come with fewer walls and more sky.