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Talk about a stretch.

There's a new sitcom called "Johnny Bago" in which the hero is running for his life after being framed for murdering a mob boss and is trying to make himself invisible driving across America in a Winnebago.Have you ever tried to "blend" in a Winnebago?

If the hero wants to get lost, he might just as well drive a nuclear waste truck with a sign in the back that says "Baby on Board." Why would anyone pick a vehicle to escape in that averages eight miles to the gallon?

What's with these people? Didn't they see the old movie with Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz where they chose a mobile home for their honeymoon? It was a trip from hell.

All the hero's pursuers would have to do is go out on the highway and when they see 35 cars bumper to bumper behind an RV and are unable to pass, say, "Theeeeere's Johnny!"

RVs are for the Charles Kuralts of the world - people who want to amble along and stop to talk to forest rangers who pick their teeth with a matchbook cover. They're for Jim Rockfords who park at the edge of town, stock the RV with beer and their father, and leave it to rust while they whip around in their sports cars. But for a young kid who has to be on the move? I don't think so. It's like driving your dad's station wagon to the prom.

In a way, the RV we bought when the kids were small was to be our "escape." After two weeks on the road doing my laundry in a saucepan, showering with a vegetable spray attachment and sleeping with a guitar, the magic kingdom with its toy toilet, toy stove and toy dishes began to get on my nerves. I would have confessed to anyone for anything.

The producers of the show are quoted as saying they developed the idea because they were intrigued by the RV subculture. We were too, for a while. We marveled at the people who used public showers at 2 a.m., the 50-foot RV that pulled a boat, extra car, two motorcycles and two mountain bikes to get away from civilization, and the bumper sticker that said, "CAMPERS ARE THE MOST HONEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD" and next to it the gas cap was locked.

I wish Johnny Bago well in his weeks on the lam. (Escaping to a new time slot would be nice.) I'm just warning you that Johnny could get a little crazy, chained to this behemoth. If you don't believe me, the next time you see a Motel 6, stop and count the RVs in the parking lot.