All the world’s a stage
And all the men and women merely players
Betty’n’Earl are semi-fictional characters. We join their journey during a tangent, an aberration, perhaps a derailment from their real life.
The duo recently quit their jobs, sold their home, bought a trailer, and took to the open road to rediscover themselves and the world around them.
But this isn’t about Betty’n’Earl. This is about You.
You know who You are. Betty’n’Earl hit the road to figure out who they are.
Betty’n’Earl want to invite You on their journey, but the price of admission is that You need to be a character in this play. But not just any character. You are the protagonist.
You were the deep well
in earth-and-ocean class
and on the days you showed
I’d try to make you laugh
Betty is the Pivot around which everything happens. The Real Betty will do anything to support You. But if You cross her, she will not sleep until You have been set right. You want The Real Betty on your side.
Betty also values her privacy. Which is why you can only see her legs in the picture above (although Bubbles is there for everyone to see). Earl guarantees that these are really Betty’s legs. Betty had asked Earl to post an incognito picture of a female stranger, but when Earl googled images of “female wearing mask”, the results were too disturbing to include here.
This is the day of the expanding man
That shape is my shade
There where I used to stand
Earl is Your buddy, the rock, a guy who will sit down and have a beer with You. Earl is the guy You want on your Slo-Pitch team, and as a bowling partner.
That Earl bears no resemblance at all to The Real Earl.
You don’t want The Real Earl as a bowling partner, unless You want him to compulsively spout lines from The Big Lewbowski. “Smokey, this is not ‘Nam, this is bowling, there are rules.” (See, there he goes again, proving his point). The Real Earl doesn’t know the first thing about Slo-Pitch, including how to spell it.
Bubbles is a rescue dog. That is, if the definition of “rescue” includes adopting a dog from a neighbour who spoiled him even more than Betty’n’Earl do.
Betty’n’Earl’s travel trailer, Mabel, is named after Betty’s mom. But Mabel is not Betty’s mom’s name. Mabel is an adaptation of an anglicized version of Betty’s mom’s name.
A mom is someone who is dependable, looks after You, and expects nothing from You.
There are websites and YouTube videos dedicated to the cultish status of Airstreams. Betty’n’Earl love their Airstream, but we’re not here for cults or trailers. We’re here for You.
Kevin is a ridiculous name for a tow vehicle, or any vehicle for that matter. Never mind the fact that naming an inanimate object is also ridiculous. But after Betty’n’Earl saw the movie I don’t feel at home in this world anymore, Kevin it is.
The most common conversation that Betty’n’Earl (but mainly Earl) have on the road relates to towing Mabel with such a small vehicle. Kevin gets very defensive about these conversations. Earl defends Kevin by indicating that Kevin has all wheel drive, 300HP, a transmission cooler, and a welded bar to support the tow hitch. Plus, Kevin is an enjoyable vehicle to drive, whether towing Mabel or not.
Earl also points out the short distance between Kevin’s rear axle and the tow hitch, and his impressive torque to vehicle weight ratio. He then goes on (Earl goes on a lot) to explain the weight distribution hitch that perfectly balances Mabel’s tongue weight between Kevin’s front and rear axles, and Mabel’s low center of gravity, low profile, and aerodynamic profile, all which result in a very comfortable and stable ride.
After this inevitable conversation, all adversaries are either sufficiently convinced of Kevin’s worthiness, or Earl’s insanity, to move on to other topics.