Date:         Fri, 4 Jul 2008 10:02:31 -0500
Reply-To:     joel walker <uncajoel@BELLSOUTH.NET>
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From:         joel walker <uncajoel@BELLSOUTH.NET>
Subject:      Re: frydaye ffollies on the fforthe daye of the seventhe monthe
              of the twenty-ninth yeare of our vanagons ...
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              reply-type=original

... beginning in Cancer and ending in Leo,on average the warmest month
in the northern hemisphere and the coldest month in the southern
hemisphere, previously named Quintilis (it was the fifth month of the
ancient roman calendar). :)

for those of you pinning away inside the house, wishing you could go
driving ...

  Road-Fever
 (Down to the Road in Buses)
 by Hoppin' John Cornfield

   I must go down to The Road again,
      to The Pavement and The Line,
  And all I need is a veedub bus
      for my senses to entwine
  With the engine's song and the humming tires
      and the whistling of the wind.
  As the years slough off and my heart grows young,
      the Road is like a friend.

  I must go down to The Road again,
      for the Call of an Open Road
  Has a stronger pull than the Roots of Home;
      on the heart, it's a heavy load.
  And all i ask is a clear blue sky,
      or a moonlit starry night,
  On a two-lane Road through a countryside,
      to set my soul aright.

  I must go down to The Road again,
      to the Highways of my youth,
  To the roads I traveled so long ago,
      when I had but little couth,
  And all I ask from the Highway gods,
      whatever they may be,
  Is a journey safe, and return the same,
      on a road forever free.


whazzat you say? oh, ok, for all the homebodies who are already
nibbling the barbecue and smoking them fireworks ... a ballad of our
times:


Mr Gasoline Man
 by Bob Dylan Thomas Hardy Hamburger

 (to the tune of Mr. Tambourine Man,
 by Bob Dylan, way back when)


  Hey, Mr. Gasoline Man, bring your prices down.
    I'm not wealthy and I can't get where I'm going to.
  Hey, Mr. Gasoline Man, bring your prices down,
    Help me get along on half of what I'm paying you.


  Though I know that Exxon's empire has drilled into our brain,
     Left us feeling pain,
       Kept us blindly here to spend and keep on spending.
  Conformity amazes me, astonished once again
     At people, oh, so vain
       To think that gasoline will last without ending.

  Hey, Mr. Gasoline Man, bring your prices down.
    I'm not wealthy and I can't get where I'm going to.
  Hey, Mr. Gasoline Man, bring your prices down,
    Help me get along on half of what I'm paying you.


  I tried to take a trip upon your golden octane ship -
  My wallet, it was stripped, my money had no grip,
  It did not like my hip, only waiting for your gas pumps
  To be leaving me.
  I'm ready to go anywhere, but cannot foot the bill.
  With prices rising still, all my hopes will soon be nil,
  I promise I can't handle it.

  Hey, Mr. Gasoline Man, bring your prices down.
    I'm not wealthy and I can't get where I'm going to.
  Hey, Mr. Gasoline Man, bring your prices down,
    I need my nose for breathing, not for paying through.

:)
unca joel