For many Americans, a home is not a house. It is a vehicle. The rolling residence, full or part time, may be a $330,000, 40-ft., custom-converted Greyhound bus or a third-hand '52 Flexible less than half that size and one-thirtieth as expensive. It can sport every domestic convenience or be almost as spartan as a Conestoga. But nearly all of those unwieldy looking crates on wheels are habitations, as legitimately and pridefully owned as any picket-fenced, split-level ranch. With one overriding difference: If you don't like the neighbors, the weather or the...
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