The Love Bus

OK, I know the name sounds kind of like an S&M or bondage blog, but the title came to me as I was working on my 1978 VW Westfalia Camper Bus. As I was duct taping down a flap of rubber that was hanging from one of the seats, I thought, this old girl is going to need a lot of "love and duct tape." You see, I bought the bus from the father of our very dear friend Jilline Ringle who passed away 2 years ago from breast cancer. It had been parked under a tree and was sitting unloved and undriven for appx. 5 years. After quite a bit of coaxing and with some help from my good friend Woody (who happens to be a mechanic) it was nursed back to life. As you can see we've dressed the old girl up with some apropo flower power magnets and authentic 60s, peace and love bumper stickers purchased on eBay for $9.99. But my favorite doodad was recently added and believe it or not helps me identify "the man" without fail. It's a hanging, rear view mirror air-freshener. How, you may ask, could an air-freshener possibly aid in identifying "the enemy"? Well sir I'll tell you. You see, the air freshener is a picture of good 'ol Gee Dubbya's head with the now very famous, monkey expression on his regal face. The inscription below reads, quite appropriately "George Bush's Dumbass Head on a String." Thank you Kristen Lamendola for sending that gem our way.









As you might guess, and in light of recent polls, our current commander and "chef" has polarized this nation more than (I believe) any other president in history. Sooooooooo as I sit (on my lunch break) outside on the bench in front of the pub next door to where I work, I watch in anticipation as passers-by gleefully oogle the old girl and instantly are transported back to younger and happier days. Anyone over the age of 30 has some memory, at some time of either owning a VW or having "a close friend who had one" in the 60s or 70s. They peer in and notice the trademark Westfalia tartan plaid seat covers, the gas pedal shaped like a footprint, the 4-on-the-floor shifter, the 2-burner stove-top and sink, and the (can't believe no one else ever used them in any other vehicle) aero-dynamic, JALOUSIE WINDOWS on either side. Comments like "Oh man, my buddy had one of these and we went all the way to Canada and back in that thing." Or "Oh my god one night in 1976 after a Springsteen concert ..." It's funny really but the VW in particular seems to have a special place in many people's young lives. There's just something about the brand that so many people connect younger, happier, crazier days with. Then inevitably they make their way to the front and see GW staring back at them. A squint through the glare on the windshield and they either chuckle or scowl. OUTTED!

I also have a 1966 VW beetle. I've told the story a hundred times about how it was "the find of a lifetime" and how I got it from the original owner. How it was garage kept and barely ever driven ... except to church on Sundays of course. Funny thing is, that's almost true. The old guy I bought it from, bought it brand new in 1966 for $1800 and sold it to me for $1500 in 1989. Not bad for a car he drove for 33 years. He had no children and took public transportation to work every day. His wife didn't drive so really it was only driven for weekend errands and on their yearly vacation to Pennsylvania Dutch country. You see they were originally from Norway ... or Sweden ... or Belgium ... anyway Mrs. Kopperudd passed and old John was selling everything and moving back to the "old country." Unfortunately when he got back in 1989, things had changed far too much and he moved back to America about a year later.

He called me to try and buy the Beetle back for more than twice what I had paid for it. I was this close (hold index finger and thumb appx. the size of George Bush's brain apart) to selling it back to him. I felt sorry for the old guy. It held so many fond memories for him. Those drives out to Lancaster with his wife. But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't part with "the find of a lifetime." It now resides, brandishing Antique license plates, in the garage where I park the Westy. They make a nice couple. A mature German gentleman with rounded shoulders and a pot belly and his younger ROBUST (even if slighty tattered) wild 70s flower child. The LOVE BUS.

I now envision my daughter Samantha driving it up to Harvard, her freshman year in the fall of 2022. Pulling up to her dorm in the completely refurbished and ultra-hip, love bus. Complete with GPS (Galactic Positioning System) and of course converted to bio-deisel. Which by the way, if Al Gore's evil plan to over throw the world's major oil companies ... er uh I mean U.S. Government is successful, will be the standard by then. She'll hop out, golden blond curls gleaming in the early autumn sunshine, slide open the side door and begin to unload her things. As she struggles with a heavy box or two a handsome young college lad may offer some assistance. He'll comment on how cool her bus is and as she explains "not only is it like totally cool, it also has a refrigerator AND a bed." That's when I'll realize, WHAT AM I AN IDIOT?!!! I gave my daughter a bedroom on wheels!

Which brings me back to two things. The title of this blog. Love and duct tape. There isn't much in this old world that one or both of those things can't fix. If from time to time something or someone you know gets broken or maybe just a little tattered. Try love first. If that don't work ... there's always duct tape.