Date:         Wed, 01 Nov 1995 22:02:00 -0800
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@vanagon.com>
From:         Steve Hoge <steveh@emu.com>
Subject:      Re: Nirvana

> Nirvana
> 
> Bob Park (repark@srv.pacbell.com)
> Wed, 1 Nov 1995 14:24:18 -0600
> 
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> ----------------------------------------------------------------------
> His name was Bob, he became known for his word, gifted to teach,
> rebuild,
> and lead others to the true reward of their efforts. On the night of
> the
> evil spirits, when owners hide their 4 wheeled box to avoid the
> inherited
> scorn of children who egg, mark or paper them (sometimes mistaking
> them by
> color for the Great Pumpkin), Bob ventured forth to the FLAP to
> complete
> his late night project. Passing by way of the corner 7/11 at the
> stroke of
> midnight, he sensed a thick veil of vapor oozing through the dark,
> enveloping his porous bus, thus masking the world from view.
> 
> Easing to the entrance for refuge, Bob wheeled Grendel by heart into
> the
> familiar lot. He stepped from the van to the pavement, only to find
> that a
> carpet of greens thrived where concrete once had lain. From there rose
> a
> path of steps and stones marking the entrance to a massive gate. He
> gingerly approached the barrier, wondering how he would enter, barely
> able
> to see the outline of an edifice beyond it. The fog was like cotton
> batting now; only the gate latch could be seen, then touched, then
> effortlessly the gate swung open. As it unlatched the fog seemed to
> lift,
> and here standing before him was a kind looking old gent with long
> robe,
> and white beard flowing seemingly as one with his raiment.
> 
> "Welcome" said the personage. "what the --, where am I" said Bob. "You
> have reached Nirvana" said the old man. "But, I was just goin' out for
> parts. See my Grendel, that's my vehicle, needed a new rotor, and I
> was
> just headed for the FLAP, uh, that's the parts store, when this fog
> fell
> over me - holy _, I mean oh my _, I mean, Jees, I, I."
> 
> "Quiet, my caterpillar, your venturing is of no surprise. We have
> observed
> your care of the old spirits of wheeled antiquity, and the devotion
> you
> have shown to spare them in their time of need. We have all seen the
> example set by you and your disciples for the masses of unbelievers.
> Now,
> my patient one, is a time of your choosing. You have been elected to
> dwell
> here in Nirvana, if you so choose. You may spend eternity here in
> bliss.
> Let me show you. Come this way."
> 
> The old gentleman turned with the silent rustle of his robe, and swung
> open
> the paired entrance to the edifice. Inside, row upon row, were wheeled
> vehicles from the beginning of time to the present. There were stone
> wheels, wood wheeled chariots, locomotives, river-boats, and every
> wheeled
> vehicle known to man. There was a Ford Vicky, VW Beetle, Mercedes
> gull-wing, DeLorean, Corvette, 240Z, Porsche 911S and thousands more
> in
> neat rows extending seemingly into eternity.
> 
> "Come, caterpillar" he said, as he entered a central room, appearing
> before
> their eyes. Inside this large circular chamber were tiers of
> barn-doors,
> splitties, breadloafs, Westies, vanagons, spotless and shining, as if
> resurrected with new body and soul.
> 
> "Where are the Eurovans?", asked Bob. "Some have not yet served to age
> of
> accountability. See, there is a place reserved for them when their
> time
> has come. If you choose to remain, you will see them arrive as your
> own
> children."
> 
> "Uh, how about the other mini-vans, you know the Cara_ (choke)
> Caravans and..."
> 
> "Oh, there is another place reserved for them" And the old man turned
> and
> said no more, closing the inner sanctum. "Now, my patient one, you
> must
> choose"
> 
> Bob looked back over his shoulder, then thought about his love for the
> split and bay window beauties. This would truly be heaven. They
> probably
> have a full set of tools, and spare parts for everything. "Hell__ I
> mean
> heck, I could probably assemble one from spares, from the ground up.
> I've
> never done that before. Close, but not completely."
> 
> Then he thought of his wife and kids, of the fun he had building
> together
> with their encouragement, and driving the nearly created busses with
> them.
> He thought of the list and all of the problems yet to be answered
> on-line.
> He would miss the challenge of finding and bringing back to life the
> dead
> hulks of long neglected VW architecture.
> 
> "I gotta go back" he explained. "They need me there. Maybe some day,
> but
> not now."
> 
> "You have made a wise decision my patient one, and you shall have your
> reward in the timelessness of eternity. But, go now--now that you have
> understood that which you have in life; go and serve those that you
> love.
> 
> he could hear voices, seemingly a chorus. There was John Lennon, 
> Jim Croche, Janice Joplin, James Brown, Elvis, Ricky Nelson 
> and Jackie Wilson.
>
Uh, I hate to be a nitpick, but please, James Brown's not dead yet! (I'm
not sure about Ricky Nelson...)

Steve Hoge
'77 Loaf
'89 Syncr GL