Date: Tue, 2 Sep 1997 19:29:17 -0700 From: Charlie To: type2@bigkitty.azaccess.com Subject: BBTA, Hoodlums, Honeymoons, and Partying There is strength in numbers. Not only the strength that comes from the fact there are so many of you, but also the strength that comes from the conversation; the difference of opinions; the sharing of knowlege; and the ³playing² together. This weekend Ihad the opportunity to ³gather myself together² with some really great and cool people. Folks from all over the country. Some of theplaces they were from, I have already passed through in my travels over the past 8 months. Many of them, in particular, Ginger Nipps of Casper, Wyoming, drove as much as 1250 one way to arrive at the 12th Busses by the Arch event. Dedication only a redheaded Volkswagen owner could muster. Ginger if I would have realized it was you who had driven that far I would have supported the hell out of the trophy presentation. I have spoken before about the ³metaphysical² power Volkswagenıs. This idea of something spiritual coming from this machine has, for lack of a better term ³plagued² me since the beginning of this trip. There truly is some mysterious power at work here, and has been since 1949 when they first arrived in America. When you become an owner of a Volkswagen, you become part of a community. It is a pity that their are still those people out there that donıt realize just how big that community is. I have had elderly men driving a bus, pull up to a redlight adjacient to me, and smile the biggest smile as they wave heartily. Proof that this machine bridges gaps, we need that badly in this country today. The Beetle gave us economy and simplicity in a world of ³ocean goingı American cars² that got about 2 gallons to the mile. The microbus helped America express itself as individuals. Split windows and bay windows being driven today are still looked upon as being a ³vehicle of the non-conformist², a ³rebel² usually with a ³cause². This theory can be proven if you take a drive on any road in the USA. Watch the conservativeıs shrug you, the kids shoot peace signs at you, and the middle aged wave at you like they have been there. Each one of them want a piece of what you have, the liberation of driving something that goes against the grain, something that makes the statement only a Volkswagen makes. They want it, they just canıt, for one reason or another, crawl out of their tin box enough to grab onto it. I know that feeling I guess. On Friday afternoon the BBTA offially kicked off. I woke up Friday morning, for me early is around 8:30 am, and there were still around 25 busses in the campground. By 2:00 pm there were close to 50, then by 6:00 pm there were close to 90. All sorts poured down the white dusty gravel road that led by the fish pond into the reserved area. There were splits, bays, single cabs, double cabs, jettas, rabbits, foxes, and Eurovans. The electric sites filled up immediately and since there were only a few plugs to go around, we pulled out supressor strips which gave us more power at the ready. The guys from Wisconson, namely the Soiney brothers, brought with them an entire bar. You may think I am exxagerating, but nope it ainıt so. They brought a refrigerator, a 20 by 40 foot canopy, guitar and vocalist, amplifier, and I think I even saw a kitchen sink in one corner of the lounge. These guys put on the RITZ. There were about 10 extension cords coming out of the tent running rto each outlet within 50 feet. At 12:00 noon on Friday, Brian Holcomb, Rob Luray, and myself went to Bill Bowmans home to help him drive his split window bus to the event grounds. Rob is sporting a Vanagon with a GTI ngine hanging under itıs bonnet. It runs like a deer at a whopping 115 horses. Robıs gambit of the weekend was to try and unravel the myusteries of the listserv. He was looking for some afirmation of his post, as well as some intructions as to how he might use the list more productively. We, as many listies as were there, tried to advise him on the dynamics of the group in which we cybernetically live with. I didnıt follow the synthetic thread too closely so what could I offer in opinion there?. I just think I have to change my oil every three thousand miles or Iım not being a good steward to The ³Mother². She is good too me so I must be good to her. I am not sure that Rob really meant to be as agressive as he said he may have sounded. I explained of the perils of getting flamed. One thing is for sure, your ass can get pretty chapped every now and then while expressing opinion. RE: Asbestos Lawsuit. Hahahahaha! We brought Bills bus out, and by the time we reached the campground around 3:00 pm there were people everywhere. Milling around and shaking hands. VW church was beginning. There was talk about each others year apart, the new bus the person was driving, the troubles they might have gone through to get here, and what it might take to fix the problem while here. The kids were in the playground swinging, chasing each other, laughing and crying. The swings made a whirring noise each time they pendelumed back and forth. Several of the bigger kids, like Andy Mckinely were trying to go as high as they could. You know so you can see over the top bar. I even tried it myself a couple times. Swinging may be my new sport of choice. Sonney Hinson brought a potatoe gun that was made of pvc pipe. This cool little demonstration of trajected power was a lot of fun. Talk about mashed potatoes. Sonny is a truck driver that has been coming to this event for the past few years. Good guy, no doubts. I had people right and left coming up and asking ³Are you Charlie Ford?² or ³Is this the Mothership?². I would confirm that they had rightfully found me or her, and in turn they would tell me how they have been following my trip through my posts. I will tell all of you here and now, and I say this from the bottom of my heart. I am not used to this kind of attention, and at times in my life have had to struggle to keep my pride in check, of course never have had much to be proud of anyway, a few good jobs maybe. I donıt always know how to handle the gift of compliment you folks give to me. All I can say is ³thank you², if I ever have the chance, I am at your service. If you doubt that, then try me. Now back to the action, the mushy stuff being said and all........................ Once again on Friday night we had more mishaps with the local boys. The kid that I mentioned in my last post returned, you remember, the one who alledgedly ³played² guitar. He strolled into camp about 9:00 pm, just as the party under the DBG tent was starting. We had ordrers for the campground management to call them should he return. We had complained about the locals of the night before to them earlier in the day and they shared with us, after we had described him, that they had had much problem out of this young man. Just as we suspected, he was bad news. As soon as we saw him we contacted them. The management in turn called the law. It took the law about 30 minutes to arrive. In the meantime several of us took the role of playing security for the moment. We made sure that since there was a warrant on him, and since we appreciated the owners,that he didnıt run off, ³hey! community policing works. Not that we would have grabbed and held him, but we may have struck up a stalling conversation with him in order to keep him there. He wanted to armwrestle the night before, so maybe we could have stalled him that way. When the deputy arrived he only had to walk up beside him, cuff him, and move him away from the tent and camping area. It was as smoothe as silk, no runs, no drips, no errors. It was all said and done in 60 seconds. We commenced to partying again. This time in celebration of the purging of crime in our community. Todd from Wisconson took off on some good tunes from Dylan, Denver, Prine, and Young. We sung and listened, it was individual choice. I even did a couple tunes I know, although it was not as enduringly entertaining as Todd was. He is a good musician. Later in the evening we had a little more problem for the locals. We had two of the guys, and a young teenage kid come into the campground and partake of the free booze the Cheeseheads had brought with them. As I said, it was a Bar, an open bar with a tip jar on the side. Any of the folks registered at the event could partake and suit there pleasure. These guys strolled in with their women and started slapping down booze like two winoıs with a twenty dollar bill in the shirt. The problem was that no one knew who everybody was, but everybody knew who most were. These guys were being bold in the attempt to crash the party. They werenıt invited to partake of anything, they just clandestinely did it. When Walt, the Texan went to ask them to leave they started putting up a fuss. They claimed first off that they had a bus in the lot. Ironically enough the dumbasses pointed to my bus, The Mothership, how foolish to believe they could have the privilege to own such a fine motor vehicle. I then said it was time to move them out. It was one thing to steal a drink, but quite another to insult The Mothership. I feel in many ways as if I am making these guys out to be hoodlums, or lower class. I certainly do not mean to imply that they were unsafe around us, we would not have beaten them up or anything like that. I do mean to say that they brought with them more stress to the situation in that they were obstrusive and far from like kind or mind. They carried themselves as someone whoıs life of booze, hard living, and the ability to create a dollar, legally or illegally, whichever was needed at the time, was something that was respectful. It is not, that is the rule, and it ainıt negotiable. My growing up in southern Georgia has lent me the opportunity to see that lifestyle in honesty. I, in my life experience have in fact participated in at least some practices of that way of life. Thank God for grace, and a humble amount of, ³need to grow². Both the afore-mentioned diety, and The Mothership have provided me with with opportunity to do a little of both. I pray that these folks one day also have that need and opportunity. ³There but by the grace of God go I². We asked them to leave and they did leave after some reasonably, shall we say, heavy prompting. The real challenge of control came when the gentlemen of the party decided they would sneak around the back of the pond damn and collect them some of the booze, and to top it off they took cups that sat on the bar in which to carry the liquid rinse. I saw them walking up the road carrying the goblets but really didnıt think anything about it. Then I thought again and rode up to them on my bike. We had learned in the first confrontation that a couple of them were from The north Florida panhandle, which is southern Georgia in attitude at least. Only geographics separate us. Florida is still a southern state, but north Florida is much more southern than south Florida. In the southern part...well....you know what I mean. By the time I caught up with them they were all the way up the road about 100 yds from the campground. As I rode up I whistled so they would know I was coming. If I startled them they might lash out without thinking. I didnıt want to fight, I am a lover not a fighter. I was alone and needed to maintain my control and theirs. I learned that when I was bouncing in a southern Georgia country bar. Hey it was a good job, except for the drunks. As I rode up to them they heard me and turned around. I entered with my best southern drawl. I was trying to be seen as their nieghbor, not as their foe. We discussed our situation quite thoroughly. In the conversations between bouncers and drunks, there several dozen handshakes and vocal commitments. None that can be completely trusted by either side. The proof is in the pudding! Stay out and your an honest man, come back and your a liar and we will call the sheriff. I noticed the glasses they were holding a little closer and noticed that they had indeed been taken from the table of the Cheeseheads bar, now called the Crusty Cafe and Casino Party Center. I had also noticed that as I came up on the bike the first thing that one started saying was, ³awe...man.....you gona take my drink ainıtcha?². I replied with ³well man, the fact of the matter is that you yanked them glasses for the bar didnıtcha². He says ³well hell yeah man....damn we put a dollar a piece in that tip jar and we deserve a draink². I says ³well....drink your draink and I can take that stolen property back to the rightful owners². He says ³damn man.....I cainıt drink all this in one shot². I asked if I could smell the drink. As he held the glass up he says, ³damn man...you got me, itıs tequila². Each one of them had a full 8 ounce glass of Tequila. At least the two older guys did. The kid poured his cup out as soon as I came up to them. He was just a kid. I told him that he needed to give me the glass. He asked if they could drink it. I told them to get them a drink and pour the rest out . They each took them a big gulp and handed me the glasses. They had gotten a bit of what they wanted and I had gotten what I wanted, so we were buddies for sure. They had taken a big enough gulp of the Pepe Lopez to ensure that they would be ³following the little animals around² in just a little while. I wished them a fond goodbye, they wished me one, and all was well once again in the world. At least as far as I could see it was. I stood and spoke with Brian Holcomb who had ridden up in the middle of our little talk. I must say it was satisfying to settle the dipute amicably. I was enriched by the situation. Got my heart pumping a little bit and I had to practice some tack. Didnıt need violence at the event did we? Nope, we didnıt. After coming back to camp I got to meet so many folks. Josh, Dan, Jon, Adam, Tim, Bill George, Lou, Slim, Jim, Benny and Tom. I wish I could remember every name to every person but I remember faces and eyes much better. I already knew Andy M., Dan S., and Matt S. From the great state of mind that is Wisconsin, so all in all I think I met just about everybody there. Special thanks to Tom Cerniak and his Dad, if you need me call me. It was a good late night had by all in attendance. We drank a lot of beer, celebrated the fact that crime had been once again fended off by the mock security force that was at the ready call. Life was safe once again in this small city of Volkswagens. That night we fell asleep in peaceful somber, and dreamed of 1600ıs, oval windows, and the exact tolerances of valves humming in unison. Of course there were probably other dreams had by the newlyweds that had just been married last Saturday. This was there honeymoon. I donıt remember their names but good luck and keep it together. There are already to many divorces and not enough weddings. I wonder if one day we will have a baby delivered at one of our events? That would be cool I think. Didnıt that happen at a Grand Funk Concert in Atlanta? I think it did. Saturday morning I got up about 9:00. The Caravan was supposed to leave at 11:00 am so I knew I had plenty of time to try and find my head from the events of the night before. I finally found it lying in the weeds over behind the Cheeseheads, Crusty Cafe. Someone must have dropped it out there after they had caught it rolling once again from my body. Maybe, maybe not, anyway I found it. I dropped the tarp off The Mothership and while doing that task I asked someone that passed by my bus, how long of a caravan it would be?. That person turned and said smilingly happily, oh....hundred miles or somewhere around that. In fact, Bill later told me that it was about 80 miles. I think after going, it was just about the right length. In the beginning there was the mystery of where we might be going. In the middle there was the relaxation that goes with getting there. In the end there was the anticipation of actually reaching the final destination. When we arrived back at camp we were all ready for a nice little nap. Life is always good after a nice Sunday drive, even if it does happen on Saturday. That evening we all attended the Awards Ceremony for the event. The BBTA is not exactly a car show in the sense that most of us might think. It is a gathering, a campout, a reunion. The attendees vote on who should get the prettiest, ugliest, and most innovative busses. It is not a bunch of politically influenced judges walking around inspecting the nooks and cranies of each vehicle. I kind of like this way of doing it. That way a person with a minimal budget has a good chance to place in one of the categories. I must say that there were some outstanding busses in attendance. I donıt think anyone could argue with the fact that Chris Walsh of Glenview, Illinois and his 63 split window Sundial Camper should have been awarded the nicest trophy. I also donıt think that there is any doubt that Brian Holcomb should have one the roughest trophy with Crusty Bus, the 1957 panel van. Just give him a year and watch the progress on this one. The bus is bound for fame. The Mothership and I had the privelege of winning the ³Most Amazing Journey² award. I accepted the award for she and I with a tear in my eye and a smile on my face. I swear I think this is the greatest honor that has ever befallen this country boy. I was awe inspired and humbled. Yet at the same time I felt pride stick in my throat like a lump of dry bread. Thanks Bill, you guys made me feel special. I retired early. I lay there in the Mothership and looked at the trophy and reflected on my trip. I think I realized right then that I kind of like this VW crowd. When I began this journey, I wasnıt so happy. It was like I told someone recently, last year I made 50,000 (a slight exxageration), and this year I have made 5000. I am happier now than I have been in many years. So many of you have brought this peace of heart, man what can I say? I tallied my miles today while on the caravan. I have traveled 15,420 miles so far. I still have to go to Nova Scotia, but wonıt get to leave headed there until October 10 or so. I have so far hit 27 states. I figure by the time I finish I will have seen hundreds of emotional changes, like the one in Cincinatti, and moved through them just like we all move through the changes of life. One of these days I am going to write a post on some of those changes. That one night in Seattle when I was feeling so lost is what I mean. Lately a lot of stuff has been surfacing to mind. When youıre driving by yourself you have the chance to try and figure those surfacingıs out. I will share my thoughts on them later. Sunday and Mondays post are on the way. As soon as I can write them. Today was the peak of the weekend for all of us. The downhill stretch begins. I am sure it will be as good as the rest. Sleepy time for now. Thanks for tolerating the ramblingıs. Charlie Ford "79" Transporter, dressed for the road The Mothership The"Turning 40 Nostalgic VW Service Tour, and Search for the Beginning of Wind". http://www.armory.com/~y21cvb/charlie/charlie.html "Wider still and wider.....shall thy bounds be set"