Date:         Mon, 30 Dec 1996 10:08:47 -0700 (MST)
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@vanagon.com>
From:         vanbondo@primenet.com (Rusty VanBondo)
Subject:      '67 Westy to be crushed! <f> <long>

Ah hahaha! Got cha!
Don't worry it's not THAT '67 Westy for Pete's sake. But it is a weird tale
of angst and recycling...

Lately I have been trapped in a Seinfeld type of a situation in general
having to do with mysterious mail and the City of Phoenix recycling program
since it started in my neighborhood about five weeks ago. In an attempt to
save the whails <sic> I have been separating the beer cans, VWTrends
off-road and water cooled issues, and other junk from the veggie scraps etc.
A battle soon developed bewteen myself and the City over the proper location
of the blue curb side container due to my lack of a driveway and parking my
buses in the street. 
Every Monday morning at early-thirty the truck resembling an extinct
dinosaur and sounding like steel factory collapsing comes roaring down the
street grabbing the blue containers like a professional wrestler in a bad
mood and flipps them over it's head and emptying them into it's belly. It
then screams toward the next container only to repeat the process. It has
been dutifully grabbing all of them... EXCEPT OURS!!! I experimented with
several different spots during the first three weeks to no avail. Finally, I
called the City to complain about the situation only to arrive home in the
evening to find an informative door hanger telling me how many feet are
required between the containers and adjacent vehicles etc. A hand written
footnote mentioned sumpin about VW buses in the street. The following Sunday
evening I measured footage and waited for the dinosaur to return.
In the meantime, I received an official notice of "Certified Mail~SIGNEE
MUST BE PRESENT TO RECEIVE." OK if they use all caps it must be important!
Ooooh goodie, a possible lawsuit from the kid I punched in third grade
maybe? An ex-spouse going for the Christmas Goose? Maybe it was Ed McMahon
and Dick Clark!!!!!! The Post Office Holiday closures and more of that
delightful free overtime at the "salary" job made it impossible to get to
the post office...
When I woke up to the clatter of the dinosaur, early-thirty the Monday
morning following the measurements, I sprang out of bed, grabbed only my
robe and Burks, and ran out of the house imagining the appropriate line from
"The Night Before Christmas." The beast had skipped the house again! Imagine
if you will VanBondo covered only in a robe and Burkinstocks running down
the sidewalk pushing the top heavy blue container which had three weeks of
"whails" in it chasing the truck! Someone could have gotten quite a <small>
eyeful! Quick heated negotiations were made between the 4'8" Mexican driver
of the 40' dinosaur. Something about the AFL-CIO and giving affection to his
behind countered with a view of the Burkenstocks and asking him to "Recycle
THIS!" A proper gentleman's agreement was finally worked out. The spot for
the blue container was found at last. Ah, problem solved. Dale Carnagie
would be so proud.
Last night, I placed the blue container in the agreed spot in the street and
the notice of the early morning post office vist in the briefcase. This
morning I watched in horror as the beast passed me up again. The neighbor
had placed their blue container right next to mine. DOH! skipped again!
The post office eventually handed me a notice of an abandoned '67 3DSW-
camper with the phone number. It was a vehicle that I had bought for $300
gutted it of nearly everything useful to me and sold to a kid <knowing
exactly what he was getting> for $300. In the meantime it had been passed
around like a bad girl friend. I occasionally grabbed glimpses of it. It was
at a local swap meet last October being offered for $500-600! When I called
the salvage yard they said that *everything* had been taken out of it and
the carcass had been dumped. The only thing that they can legally do with it
at this point is crush it. In the spirit of "recycling" I called a bus freak
body/paint buddy of mine who might be able to nab and use some of the sheet
metal before the jaws of death moosh the poor thing.
Back to lurking,
VanBondo\

<apologies for the length but I count this as my weekly allowance>