Date:         Thu, 23 Dec 1999 21:36:48 -0600
Reply-To:     Joel Walker <jwalker@URONRAMP.NET>
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From:         Joel Walker <jwalker@URONRAMP.NET>
Subject:      Thursday's Fryedaye Follies (well, it's Friday for me!). :)
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a bit of Christmas/Holiday foolishness first ....


  Jingle Bells

  Crashing through the snow,
  In a Westy Camper bus,
  Over the fields we go,
  Raising quite a fuss!

  We're looking for a tree,
  To take with us back home,
  We hope we find one that is free
  As through the woods we roam!

  <chorus>
     Oh, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
     Making lots of fuss,
     Oh, what fun it is to drive
     In an old Volkswagen bus!

  A day or two ago,
  The Wife said, "Get a tree!",
  And soon we're riding round,
  The bus, the dog, and me.

  I took the old back roads,
  To see what I could see,
  And hope that I would find out there
  The perfect Christmas Tree.

  <chorus>

  We passed a lot of folks,
  The snow had made them cowed,
  'Cause they stay on only roads
  That were already plowed.

  The snow was white and deep,
  But Bus has lots of pluck!
  And though we slipped and slid around,
  We never once got stuck!

  <chorus>




      The Night Before Christmas

  'Twas the night before Christmas, and all round the house,
  Not a Vee-Dub was running, I felt like a louse.
  The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
  In hopes that St. Wolfsburg soon would be there.

  The children were nestled all snug in their beds
  While visions of Campers danced round in their heads.
  And Mama in her flannel and I in mine, too,
  Thought a cross-country bus tour was a neat thing to do,

  When, out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
  Like sounds of a bad clutch; you know how they chatter;
  Away to the window I flew like a flash,
  I loosened the locks and threw open the sash,

  And what to my wondering eyes did appear,
  But a Volkswagen bus, of the earlier years,
  With a little old driver, so pudgy and round,
  That I knew in a moment St. Wolfsburg I'd found.

  And pulling the Bus, through the snow and the cold,
  Was an octet of Beetles, so proud and so bold.
  More rapid than turtles, they strained as they came,
  And he yelled and he screamed and he called them by name,

  "Now, Sunroof, now Oval, now Super, and Sunbug,
  On, Verti, on, Kuebel, on, Karmann, and Goldbug,
  To the top of the carport, to the top of the wall,
  Drive away, drive away, drive away all!!"

  So up to the rooftop this convoy then flew,
  The Bus full of car parts and the Beetles were, too.
  As I drew in my head and was turning around,
  From the chimney St. Wolfsburg came out with a bound.

  He was dressed as mechanics, from his head to his foot,
  And he reeked of old motor oil and ashes and soot.
  A huge bunch of car parts he had stuffed in his sack
  Marked VeeDub and Bosch ... I was taken aback!

  His face was all wrinkled, his eyes so dejected,
  Like parts that he'd ordered were more than expected.
  His feet were all covered with oil, which was dripping
  All over my carpet where he had been tripping.

  He was rotund and jolly, a competent mech,
  But my room now was filthy, a horrible wreck.
  He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
  With his butt-crack all showing, like some plumber, the jerk!

  Then putting his finger aside of his nose,
  With a wink and a nod, up the chimney he rose.
  He sprang to his Bus, fixed his seatbelt, and farted,
  Then hit the ignition and up they all started.

  He pushed in the clutch, shifted gears with a grinding,
  They all started moving, their engines were winding,
  But I heard him exclaim 'ere he drove round the side,
  "Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good ride!!"


apologies to Mr. Moore (original author)
and Jim Finn (who adapted it for British Cars, 1992)
<and from whom i shamelessly stole the idea :) >