Having lunch with the parental units:

DAD: I just bought a canoe for our trip!

ME: The cross country trip you’re planning to celebrate the glory of being retired?

DAD: That one!  We’ll use the canoe when we travel up to see some of the lakes on our itinerary.

ME: You’ll put the canoe somewhere in the RV?

MOM: What RV?

ME: You’re buying an RV, right?

DAD: No, we’re just taking the truck.  We’ll strap the canoe to the roof.

ME: What?  I figured you’d just pull an About Schmidt and buy some huge honkin’ gas guzzler.

DAD: Er, no.

ME: Where will you sleep?

DAD: Hotels and maybe campgrounds.

ME: So you’re going to pack everything you need for two months in a truck?

MOM: We can stop and do laundry on the way, you know.

ME: What if you forget to pack something really important you need?

MOM: We’ll stop somewhere and buy it.

ME: What if they don’t have it?

MOM: We’ll stop somewhere else.

ME: I don’t get it.

Several days later, having dinner with a friend:

ME: ...so they’re just going to drive around for two months in a truck.

SHE: Seems like you’d want to get an RV and just live in it for a while.

ME: This is exactly what I’m saying.

SHE: A truck is tiny.

ME: What if you need to join convoy to protest some sort of midwestern highway injustice? Or help out a lovable highway maverick as he escapes from the local sheriff, leading up to a huge car/truck chase scene involving dozens of vehicles and law enforcement officials?  If my folks want to play at that level, they’ll need bulk.

SHE:  Uh.

I still don’t get it.  But I guess I have thirty or so years to think about it.