Date: Tue, 2 Sep 1997 10:07:53 -0700 From: Charlie Ford To: type2@bigkitty.azaccess.com Subject: BBTA, Early Encounters Well it's about 3:00 on Friday afternoon here at Busses by the Arch in Saint Louis. Actually in a little town just north of Saint Louis. The weather is hot and muggy with a light breeze blowing in from the northeast. When I say light, I mean "light". I arrived here on Wednesday evening about 11: 00 pm after driving straight through from Cincinatti, where as many of you know I have been staying with Ted Finesman. Ted is a type2 list member and one great host. He allowed me to pick through his personal VW graveyard and snatch a few parts I might be able to use in my travels. He has helped me to get past the snags of emotional baggage I still have left, or the new snags brought on by being on the road. In the past couple weeks I have done a little gardening, a lot of sleeping, and some touring around and about. I have also visited some VW shows including Columbus, which was a marvelous show, and Cincinatti Bugfest, which irritated me to know end. the most disorganized, politically polluted group I have seen thusfar. if your group suffers from that plague, burn it, it'll ruin you. To be honest, Cincinatti overall seemed to irritate me. Maybe the thing that was so irritating was that the detour to Cincy was a detour that took me far off my course. Money has not been as accessable in the past few weeks, and when one is living somewhat "hand to mouth", this is not a good thing. Of course it was my choice to take this trip, so there is not a whole helluva lot I can say about it. I just have to try my best and pray to the good Lord for some strength, and of course opportunity. He has taken great care of me so far, and I have faith that he will give me the grace to make it full circle to the journey's end, which will probably be sometime around January. "Lord willing and the creek don't rise". Actually I think this "trying" time is meant to teach me something, but like all folks that go through this sort of thing, I don't yet know what the hell that lesson is. The waiting is the hardest part! My Grandmother used to say that God had three answers, "yes", "no", and "wait". Wait, wait, wait...........I have to keep grinding that into my mind. In order to generate some creative change to invade the agony of emotion I was suffering, I decided to mow my hair off, and attend Busses by the Arch. The hair decision was made on a whim. I was crashing at Tony Moore's home for a few days, after being basically flooded out of my backyard parking spot at Ted's, and his lovely (in all ways) wife Melanie was cutting Tony's hair. He has worn a crew cut for a while and was telling me about how comfortable the style was. After a few minutes of toying with the idea, I sat down and gave the request. Melanie hopped right in, cranked up the Briggs and Stratton on the Osters, and commenced to do the whacking. Actually, I took the clipper and made the first cut, she took over from there. As the 'by and by' rolled by, I saw myself metamorphisising into a jarhead. I looked like a cross between Ernest Borgnine and Forrest Gump, Kojak and Seargant Bilko. This was the first time I had cut my hair like this since I was 11 years old. My Grandfather was a Barber by trade, and just didn't respect my fashion wishes prior to my teen years. I don't really think he ever did respect them totally but I guess he felt like a teen needed to look like a teen. I remember coming homefrom college and him saying, "damn boy, you look like Fidel Castro. For the past week I have been wearing this bare look coifuer, like I have a choice, and I really am enjoying it. With my size, deep voice, and southern demeanor I kind of look like the biker from hell, but I don't guess that is a bad since I have been known to sleep in an empty truckstop in some drawn out place on a Saturday night. I realized as I was seeing my hair go that it was nothing but an object of vanity, I needed comfort and ease and that is what I got, nothing more, nothing less. Happy I have to be. Today, I sit at Busses by the Arch, sporting a new $2.00 haircut, fighting off the mosquito's,and the ladies (yeah right!), and thoroughly enoying myself. The folks so far are spectacular, the ones I have met anyway. Life is good here in temp VW town. There are several people here from Wisconson, and many of them I met when I was at the MOFOCO Mosquito Massacre last month. This folks is a partying, happy, smiley bunch of people. They laugh like the sun shines. In them, you can see a touch of country and a touch of city. Good people! The park is starting to fill up and all the electric sites are full. The bugs have been hellacious, flys during the day, and mosquitos at night. REPEL, once again is in demand, just as it was in Wisconson. I think these Mosquito's may have heard about the Massacre, and have set their hearts on revenge. Last night almost everyone in the camp sat around under the Casino Party Tent (brought in by the Cheeseheads) and sang songs, embibbed a little, and carried on some very rich conversation. The bible says "Do not forsake the gathering of yourselves together", I picked some new meaning for that last night. A good time was had by all, "mostly" all evening. The "mostly" meaning a segement of time when we were invaded by the dreaded badass acting local dudes. These fellows make southern redneckism's look like compliments when you speak of their ethics. They strolled into our midst with a passion toward crashing the party and partaking of the favors without control. The one thing they lacked was the intelligence it takes to hang with such a bunch of blessed individuals such as ourselves. Lights shine on people of peace and the light goes with you. Darkness had invaded our midst. The first contact we had with these aliens of VW was when this kid about 16 years old strolled into the tent. He looked at Todd, who was playing the guitar, and asked if he could play and sing one. Todd said sure, the kid sat down and started sliding his fingers on the rosewood. We sat in anxiuos anticipation as this "kid with the hispanic look" plucked out a few notes only loud enough so that the closest could hear them. The anxiety was peaked when we realized he wasn't going to break out in a powerful riff that could be topped only by the likes of the Vaughn Brothers, or a young pure Duane Allman. I sat, listened, and felt the bad storms russh into my soul. Something was wrong here. This kid was up to know good and many of us wrestled with this feeling until someone finally said something about it. The consensus was that this kid was a bad apple, and just didn't fit in. He wasn't a VW person, and didn't share the Karma that we did. Eventually he left, but after a few minutes he returned. This time he brought his buddies. They were a motley looking crew with missing teeth, disheveled hair, and a redneck walk. And yes you might have guessed, all round IQ hovering about 10. if that wasn't the case, it was one helll of a disguise. They were also legends in their own minds. The kind of person that any "good ole boy" would want to peel across the cheek just because they knew a thief when they saw one, and a petty thief at that. I think these guys would have stolen the thorns from Christ head, but only after the damage had been done. They were pond scum, looking for a place to corrode and mutate. They had landed on the wrong airstrip, and we were the FAA for this region. The big guys rallied. We had Rob from Chicago, Brian, from Wisconson, Walt from Texas, and myself, the Georgian. All together we carried an average of 6.2 feet, and an average weight of around 260 pounds. We were as wide as a bus is long, and were ready to float with the tide that rolled. Rough seas they may be, The VW SEALS we at the ready. Life was safe for the women and children, and we meant it. Eventually these turds of society came in and asked if they could do a business deal on our picnic table. It was so quick that it caught us a little off guard. We gave them a pen, which they had asked to borrow. Questions were flying wildly through the group like birds rushing from an empty silo. As we tried to stumble through the "meaning" and even moreso the "legality" of this transaction. Things were growing steadily more shady than they had been . "They were very interesting characters" as Andy put it. Interesting indeed! As time went by, many of us settled to not be near these guys, but keeping an ever watchful eye and headcount. If you ignore a pimple eventually it comes to a head, or dies on the vine. The choice was theirs to make, we only had to wait on them to make it. Patience is a virtue. After about an hour, and a few subtly challenging statements from them, they got the message we didn't want them around us. They left with a few wistful words commenting on our "hospitality". If fleas are in your bed, and you know they're fleas, do you buy a new bed, or wash the linens. We washed the linens, there was not a bed store for miles. We watched them as they packed up and pulled out an hour later. They decided we were not friendly enough for them I guess. They would have had to be out first thing in the morning anyhow. Their departure suited me fine, I don't like to have to lock my bike up everytime I use it, especially around other Volksfolks. Good ridence boys, say hello to the man for us, if you saty on present course he will find you in due time. Finally, after reflecting on the events and excitement of the night, all of us crashed. We had a good first day's gathering. We had seen some hot weather, lots of bugs, and some campground gypsy's that added flavor and spice to the soup. It was a hearty days meal of music, fellowship, fun, mystery, and even expulsion. But sometimes, things just have to be expelled. We don't have gypsy's today, only Volky's. More to come as I can send em up. Wish you were here! Thanks for tolerating my rambling's. Charlie Ford "79" Transporter, dressed for the road The Mothership The"Turning 40 Nostalgic VW Service Tour, and Search for the Beginning of Wind". http://www.armory.com/~y21cvb/charlie/charlie.html "Wider still and wider.....shall thy bounds be set"