Slo Roseboro, 54, has been decorating the streets of Roanoke, Virginia, which he deems a "very spooky place," for about a decade.
He embellished the jacket he's wearing by cutting out the stars and having them sewn on by a dry cleaner in town.
"He's just slacking today," a friend tells me. "He wears some seriously colorful stuff."
After enough years wondering where I belong, life made the decision for me.
That's not to say I won't someday change my mind. But for now, it's fair to label me a west coast girl.
I like to wear belly dancing tops with cowboy boots to the grocery store and not attract stares.
I prefer dryness to humidity; rattle snakes to deer ticks; would rather work on cars and take camping trips than go to the theater or talk politics. And I crave wide open spaces.
A "city" to me can consist 8,000 residents in the middle of "nowhere."
New York City may be the testing ground for new media. But there is a healthy respect for traditional formats, too.
On a commuter train from southern Connecticut, newspapers were the informational mode of choice – despite the mobile devices in everyones' hands.
…With 8 million people… Where you can walk for 10 miles, yet barely dent it.
New York is part of all our consciousness through references in novels, songs, news and history.
I'll bet you know the names of its neighborhoods and streets. I'll bet you've picked up its slang.
It is the most American of all cities, considering its role as an entry point for early immigrants and origin of political and cultural change.
Smoggy and humid, the city is a symphony of sirens, honking, construction tools and words in a hundred languages. Sewage, salt water and every kind of imaginable food smell permeates the air.
New Yorkers — for all their diversity — behave like a giant community as they weave around construction and monuments, watching each other with a cellular device, cigarette or slice of pizza in their hands.
They cross streets in a continuous, choreographed rhythm.
They are honest, fashionable, practical adapters.
The reality of life in this concrete habitat, shared by birds and dogs and horses and bugs, is a far cry from life along the back roads.
Then again, the second I stepped off my train in Grand Central Terminal, I knew I could hack it. So I guess I've got some New York in me. Maybe just enough.
These first three images were taken near Central Park in Manhattan. In the above image, artist Franz West's suclpture "The Ego and the Id" wraps itself metaphorically around a skyscraper.
Times Square puts on a never ending capitalism and media show.
An antique is on display and lockdown off Broadway.
George Washington peers out over Wall Street at the site of the nation's first capitol.
Underpinnings of a funky bridge near Chinatown.
And the buildings may as well be trees…
(I saw lots more, including awesome graffiti and inspiring Halloween shopping along the Bowery, but alas, my camera's battery died.)
Claudia Torres came to the United States from Medellin, Columbia when she was 19.
"I love this country. I met my husband here and had my son here and most of my friends are American," she tells me in a lilting accent that makes ordinary words sound like a song.
The 46-year-old Norwalk, Conn. resident teaches Spanish and preschool and nannys part time. She and her husband, an Ecuadorian immigrant, met while in college and became citizens later.
Though hers is a success story, Torres worries others are not making the transition. They are chasing the wrong dream, a misunderstanding of values that even native-born residents fall prey to.
"It's about family. It's not about green dollars. People think about money all the time and they forget values," she says.
"The United States opened its doors to every body," Torres adds. "We should integrate ourselves into American society and learn its laws and its culture."
There are many differences that must be adapted to. Some are humorous, such as the less boisterous observation of Christmas and rigid way time dictates daily life.
Others are serious: differing ideas of discipline versus child abuse, for example, and a police force that cannot be paid off to get out of a speeding ticket, could result in criminal charges.
"Orgullo" or self-pride can be a stumbling block.
"Immigrants say, 'Oh I don't want to speak because I will make a mistake,'" relates Torres. "That is wrong. Americans don't laugh at you because you make a mistake. When you know the law, you get more respect. When you make the effort, Americans give you more value."
"You need to create that separation," she says. "It's not to forget about where you come from, it's not to forget who you are. But you need to learn about where you are coming to."
She adds, "You need to learn the American dream — it's not that we come here to work like machines — because we are human, we have familes. We have to see our kids grow up."
While in Newport, Rhode Island (another fun east coast city to maneuver in an RV), I toured two mansions: Rosecliff (pictured) and Marble House.
Rosecliff has a red-carpeted, heart-shaped stairwell that was at one time covered in a foot of ice while the mansion was abandoned and in disrepair.
Marble House was built to be the summer abode for William K. and Alva Vanderbilt and their three kids. The family spent just three summers together in it.
Alva, a notoriously strong-willed feminist, received the mansion as a "gift" for her 39th birthday.
Everything inside was on a large, fairytale scale.
According to Wikipedia, Marble House would have cost about $140 million to build today.
Both homes were used during filming of "The Great Gatsby," released in 1974. No pictures were allowed inside.
With Johnny Cash in my head, no less.
The so-called "Freedom Trail" links historical monuments on a cool 2.5 mile walking tour through Boston's center.
It was raining most of the time, but I didn't bust out my umbrella. Seattle-born people are hardcore that way.
A beautiful array of old American flags in Massachusetts' capitol building includes one displayed backwards to show its more neatly embroidered side.
Further down the road, Granary Burial Ground, founded in 1660, is the city's third-oldest cemetery.
Our tombstone engraving norms sure have changed. This close to Halloween, I found the old style sort of creepy!
Old and new buildings in a skyline are one of my favorite things… keep reading for a closeup of the glass skyscraper.
Boston's Quincy Market is a great people watching and grub getting hangout.
But the very Italian North End district won my heart.
Easily could have spent all day here listening to people chit chat in Italian and Boston accents.
Paul Revere sort of resembles Paul Newman, don't you think?
In front of an historic church, a modern memorial to lost Iraq War vets
And that spectacular building, again….
When I'd had my share of walking around and reading plaques, I hopped on the subway and headed outbound to meet a friend at Harvard.
As I walked through Cambridge toward a campus entrance, I saw a perfect looking apple someone had forgotten about. It was sitting on a ledge inside the school, separated from the outside world by iron bars. The apple and the tree in the background made me contemplate the knowledge we attain through higher education.
At least the W.A.S.P.y university's motto is "Truth"
And it's not considered Ivy League for nothing.
It was beginning of the beginning for the United States of America and the beginning of the end for native tribes' societies when the Pilgrims landed here in 1620. It was also December, so while I am kicking myself for being here in near freezing weather in mid-October, they were even less prepared.
Plymouth Rock is symbolic, but I found the portico built over the rock in 1921 to be equally important. Here, 300 years after those tired refugees walked ashore, a firmly established nation erected a symbol of permanence. We had yet to face the Great Depression, wage battle with nuclear weapons or experience terrorism on our own soil.
To this day, the town of Plymouth is an energized place.
Groups of school children embark on physical history lessons.
While the shoreline is haloed in a crowd of boats.
Manchester-by-the Sea is a cute little town in Massachusett's North Shore region
that swells with vacationers during summer. An unseasonably early cold
spell returns its beaches to nature.
Nearby in Topsfield, a typical looking church illustrates the boxy colonial style that predominates in area towns with settlements dating to the pilgrims.
Alone for just a second,"Tall Tex" surveys a busy crowd at the annual Topsfield Fair.
Late twentieth-century modernism is on display in this sleek, harmoniously landscaped addition to South Portland's Reform Congregation Bet Ha'am.
Two full-length skylights on either side of the ceiling strategically integrate natural light. The curve of the structure suggests an ancient meeting tent.
Below, a walkway separates the synagogue's classrooms in its older brick building from the new sanctuary, providing a subconscious transition from sacred to profane.
"The goal is to have the liturgy tied to the natural world around us," says Jeremy Moser, chair of the building committee.