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Date:         Fri, 26 Nov 2004 14:04:23 -0800
Reply-To:     Mike Miller <mwmiller@CWNET.COM>
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From:         Mike Miller <mwmiller@CWNET.COM>
Subject:      Re: Zep® basted turkey (long and little
              RVC...it is Friday)
Comments: To: Stephen Steele <steeles@HORIZONVIEW.NET>
In-Reply-To:  <BDCC9580.84F3%steeles@horizonview.net>
Content-type: text/plain; charset="US-ASCII"

A mighty tail indeed, oops, tale indeed!

Good t day to you.

Mike

On 11/26/04 5:10 AM, "Stephen Steele" <steeles@HORIZONVIEW.NET> wrote:

> Listees: > It IS Friday, so... > Oh, what a wicked web we weave. It's a Thanksgiving story... not Allison's > Restaraunt nor is it Alice's Restaurant (which has RBusC if not RVC); but it > is a long convoluted tale hardly worth the telling, let alone the reading... > > There we were at my sister Gretta's house for the last of the rounds of > Thanksgiving Day's Last Stuffing (Since we lost both of our parents, our > family now has a ritual of going to the in-laws, AKA the "other" > Grandparents, and then meeting up with the siblings at the designated time > and place for a repast of gargantuan proportions which can only be matched > anywhere by the previously mentioned in-laws). All had gone well, the > wrinkles were all out of our bellies. Oodles of noodles had disappeared. > Buttons strained at midriffs. The bird had been sacrificed and the pumpkin > pies were well near gone. Empty Cool whip bowls lined the counters. All was > right with the world. It was, however, almost the Thanksgiving Day > dinner-that-never-happened and it would have been all to blame on the VW > psychosis that many of us share. I sat reflecting on the events of just > hours earlier. > > Not everyone was there yet, I had to run out to retrieve something from my > car when I happened to really look at the mess that I have created. > Snaking around Gretta's cul-de-sac was a line of cars all there avoiding the > driveway that my anally retentive brother-in-law Al scours after every > family dinner{oil drips!!!} The line was ALL VWs !! Five Jettas, three > Golfs; three of the eight were diesel. Now I have to admit that four of > these were my sons'; but I am proud to say that two of my older brothers now > have VW diesels as daily drivers AND it was a day so they were driving them. > SO I had to run back into the house and grab my camera to record for > posterity, in 3X5 color prints not 8X10 glossies in B&W, all the glory of > that string of Teutonic tinkering that is so representative of my > Scots-Irish heritage... > we are TIGHT! > > Now I need to digress and back up a little and perhaps even be a little > redundant. I said above that I had created that mess, which is not quite > the truth. I can really trace back to the source of my VW psychosis to a > distinct time and place and can lay the blame directly and squarely upon the > shoulders of my brother Fred. It was around Thanksgiving in 1967 when he and > his new bride, Gretchen, arrived at our parents' house with a brand new > convertible Beetle. It was small and yellow and shiny and so well built; not > anything like Al's two-toned '63 Che*y two hard top Impala or Mom and Pop's > '65 Impala or other Bro-in-law Dave's '67 Chevelle with the 327 and > shackles. While Al's car was definitely squeaky clean and shiny (he is AR, > you know); this VW was perfect. Brother Mike had a Corvair, and earlier had > owned a beater '60 Volvo (which I and an older nephew had borrowed/stolen > one night...but that's a whole 'nother story). Anyway, while those were cool > cars they were NOT like this car. I do believe it is/was the only new VW > ever bought by any of us and I know it was Fred's first new car. It was > during the following summer that Fred let me "baby sit" the Beetle when they > went on a postponed honeymoon in Europe. I was smitten. Aside from a > really dumb move of buying a '74 MGB right out of college as my first car, I > have nearly always had VWs since. (End of digression.) > > Back to Turkey Day'04, earlier I had received a phone call from Son#1. He > was on his way down for Tday when his '84 Westy's dash lights came on (see > "SonofaVanagon OXS and..."). > I was at the in-laws' and he gave me the necessary out for a hasty post meal > departure. I really like this Son! While my in-laws know of my VW > ways...they just don't comprehend or understand them... they're of French > decent (no CA flames pls). After arranging for Miss Colleen and Son#5 to > have a ride, I met up with Son#1 at the shop and we quickly determined that > the alternator was undercharging his battery. We switched the alt out with > the one out of the '91 Caravelle which is being overhauled. It fired up and > is just fine except for the dash lights are still on. (The "new" alt had a > D+ post for the signal actuator and that may be the problem... AC vs. no AC) > Anyway, it was getting late and we needed to do the Last Stuffing at > Gretta's. So we hurried up and jumped into my Eco diesel and scurried on > out to the scene o' the crime. Scene o' the grime would be putting it better > (foreshadow). > > Arriving in the middle of the pack that is my family (10 siblings..three > gone and two more not able to be there) I set about grazing on all the hors > d'oeuvres as any proper thinking male should do. The remaining family > poured in and commenced to become loud and eventually all sorts of > implements of digestion and consumption were placed around and over nearly > every flat surface that would suffice as a table top. The feast was soon to > be on. > > I was nabbed by Gretta to "do" the turkey... that is I was handed the sharp > knife and told to do the honors of dissecting that bird into munchable, > mouth-size morsels. Somewhere into the ten minute ordeal, Son#4 came up and > peered over my shoulder and proclaimed inadvertently to all that I smelled > "like the shop" in a volume that shouldn't have be heard by all near and > far. It was. > > In typical reactive fashion known well by all you mechanics and wannabe > mechanics out there, I looked over my hands and they WERE clean. But in my > haste to get out of the shop and to the Last Stuffing I had left two or > three globs of Zep hand cleaner (small, very small globs, I swear! Well > maybe there was a little more than that, but not a lot) hanging from the > hair under my left wrist. What with all that hurrying and scurrying I > hadn't really looked closely at my arms as I washed up at the shop. Now I > know you all know what and where I'm talking about. Sometimes you get > grease and grime on the back of your forearms or above your elbows or maybe > even behind your ears and you "forget" to clean back there. Your S.O. tells > you when you get in from the garage..."Dear, look at your self in the > mirror" and you see that glob o' stuff on your face or in your thinning hair > or where ever and you go to town washing up again. > > Well, I won't blame Miss Colleen for not looking me over closely as she was > a little busy with the three year old, the other boys and their girlfriends > and such. Not to mention all the fixing and fussing with all the women folk > as the Last Stuffing was culminating into the feast that it is. BUT, what's > a guy to do?! Here they were all staring at me and stiffing and smelling the > air trying to detect just a little of that smell o' Zep, that eu d' shoppe, > that GMC (garageman's cologne) that defines the oiliness and essence of > grease monkeys everywhere. > > I quickly gathered my two wits together and whispered out of the corner of > my mouth telling Son#4 to hush and go along with me. "Oh you must be > smelling that little burnt piece of skin there on the bottom of the pan" And > then I ever so deftly (if i have to say so myself...and I do because no one > saw me do it) I slipped a paper napkin along my arm and chucked t into the > waste can beside me. All eyes and ears and noses were following Son#4 as he > bent over to stiff the bird. I really like this son, too. Nary a sole was > the wiser and the carving continued as before. > > And that readers is how I avoided being forever labeled as the chump who > basted the Last Stuffing turkey with Zep... A fate as bad as the tale of > Sister Marsha's banana flavored scalloped corn and maybe even worse. > > I warned you that it was a long convoluted tale hardly worth the telling, > let alone the reading... but that's my story and I'm sticking to it. > Stephen Steele > Chillicothe OH > > '87 Westy "Franz" > '82 Caddy VW Diesel P.U. SOLD > '74 MGB My first car...yep, I've kept it since '74 > '93 Chevy S-10 > '91 Jetta Diesel My daily driver > '02 Jetta Wagon VR6 Wife's car > Ex Vans: > '81 Vanagon from 1985-1990 > '91 Caravelle "Hans"...1995-2004 awaiting new engine > '84 Westfalia "Fritz" 2000-2004 now with Son #1 > >


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