I'm in a very strange place right now that I will most likely never understand. One of those times in my life that, if I could verbalize, I probably still wouldn't (some secrets should remain secret). I've read all the responses above a few times and I'm still surprised to find that so many are following along.
So let me turn back to easier times: Scottsdale, AZ. After the 1000 miler, I crashed at the Springfield Suites, had a very strange Greek dinner across the street (packets of butter gingerly placed on top of salad greens?) and crashed out. The next morning I met up with flynturbo. We first talked while I was in Martha's Vineyard. I thought I'd been doing miles, but he's a jet pilot and makes Maine to Boston look like a stroll from the house to the mailbox and back.
Had a great breakfast and now he's in a truck with his brother moving from AZ to FL. Good guy, good times. One of the dudes on the trip I'm destined to meet again. And one of just a few people I've met (or even read about) who abandoned a life of regulated 'simplicity' and profitable desperation for a life of uncertainty and satisfaction.