This will confirm what many of you have thought for years: I am obsessed.
God help me – I want a Volkswagen vanagon. I crave a camper van. A really old one with the spare tire on the front. That’s tops on my Bucket List.
It’s not like I need a hobby. I have one-third ownership in a dog. My third has to go walking every morning, rain or shine. Evenings, likewise.
But I drift from my talking points.
I cannot explain this hunger for a clunker. After all, I was never a hippie. Didn’t have much use for them. My Lubbock heritage was a beta blocker. Just couldn’t break through back then like I have now. There’s something about the slow process of going bald that sets you free.
Click and Clack, the Car Talk guys, say a vehicle this old is not a car – it’s a dependent. I know the drill. For years, I drove a 30-year-old Mercedes. My mechanic and I grew so close, we exchanged Christmas gifts. And he’s Jewish.
Yes, I know there are no cup-holders but I quit drinking and driving years ago.
So what if the crate can’t make Interstate speeds. Blue highways are better.
Too much arthritis to even think about getting frisky under the roof tent. Hmmm. Is that where frisky business is supposed to take place? I don’t even know.
Nor do I want to go camping. After four years as a Scoutmaster, I know camping. Generally speaking, campgrounds are a turn-off, roof tent or no. Although I do wonder if the Sun Shower that hooks on the roof gutter would work. The Mystery Woman absolutely refuses to test the device.
The Mystery Woman is not supportive. She owned a VW bus (not a camper) back when her kids were K through middle school. Her memories are vivid. Like the time the sliding door fell off and into the snowbank. And the time a hippie friend crawled under the van and re-connected the accelerator link with a paper clip. Or the see-through floor boards. Or …
I don’t care.
Undoubtedly, this saga will continue … as long as there's a CraigsList, I have hope.