<p>In some cases our job is to keep them alive and safe until they mature and get a clue.</p>
<p>SBMom, one of those times when life is just as rollicking as anything we might invent. Does your sister need an intern? Would she like to hear a CD from Sluggson:)? JK, but those who are destined to make their mark on the entertainment world I guess don’t usually take the standard path…</p>
<p>And I will add, Om Namah Shivayah, from my ashram moment many years ago. Some day when we are burning incense in the Alley I will tell that story. Complete with a sports psychologist from LA wanting to take photos of me sitting unclothed on a hillside. I kid you not.</p>
<p>Someone get Alu another drink so we can hear that one!!</p>
<p>OK, so here’s the deal. I have seen Curmudgeon, oh he who bowed out not so long ago, poking his head up on other pages of cc. If we can get him back into the Alley, just to tell a story or two in that aw-shucks kind of mode, then get Slugg to give us her opinion of other bands that she <em>loves</em> like she loves CSNY, and if SBMom will tell me TSFS’s latest episode, and Mootie will give me her recipes book, and you get the picture, then I will tell. Oh yes and get BGoodMom in here to regale us with Canadian humor. And cheers to send pictures of her latest mega-project. Jmmom has already ante-d up her hacienda for a cyberfest so she is off the hook:).</p>
<p>After all that, frankly, it’s just a story and not all that wild in actuality. Just weird to find a sports psychologist from LA at an ashram in northwest India:). The fact that he wanted to take naturist photos, well, some things are universal in life…</p>
<p>OK here’s one you can all watch unfold vicariously: S#1 has indeed purchased a '78 VW van. It is as pristine as such a thing can be, 28 years later, and tonight he started in earnest to fix it up for the drive across the country in another month. He got carpet remnants and is laying them out to line the inside walls. He’s figuring ways to get the heater working, install a stereo, and rig up a handle for the inside van door which has no handle right now. He got the seatbelts threaded up onto the back bench seat, and bought a nice tie-dyed throw to cover it with. He’s already found AIRS (Air-cooled Interstate Rescue Squad: VW van owners who come to the rescue of stranded travelers in similar vehicles as a way of helping to “preserve the species”) and the Full Moon Bus Club, and has bought two repair-and-restoration “bibles” from amazon.com. He’s found and purchased reasonably-priced insurance, and is going out Monday to sign up for a AAA membership.</p>
<p>Tonight we went to Jo-Ann Fabrics and bought 2 kinds of appropriate fabric, with which I get to play mommy this weekend and make <em>curtains</em>! 
(He’s got the little curtain rods and everything.) As we were comparing two patterns he laughed and said, “So this is what mother-son bonding is like these days, huh?” </p>
<p>I don’t think I’ve seen him this happy in many, many months.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>LOL! The task of VW owners everywhere! We had a VW Beetle when I was in high school, and my morning chore was to get the car started before my dad left for work, fill his thermos with coffee, and make sure I put a blanket in the car during the winter. He also had some sort of strip on the windshield which plugged into the cigarette lighter; this device functioned as the window defroster. For all that wonderful German engineering, why couldn’t they ever figure out how to make a heater that lasted more than 2-3 years?</p>
<p>Reminds me of sophomore year in college when a few of us snagged a ride to Boston from VA from the “ride board” in the student union. We didn’t know the kid who drove but he had a VW van with no back seats. We all sat on the floor. It was the dead of winter, no heat in the van at all. I can remember getting wet from the condensation on the inside walls. I WISH he would have had carpet remnants lining them! Of course, back then it was an adventure, not an inconvenience!</p>
<p>One spring break, a Brown friend & I decided to point my heaterless VW Bug south and just drive “until it was warm.” We got to DC for some cherry blossoms, but finally stopped in Durham, NC-- to visit friends at Duke & catch a Grateful Dead concert. It was warm and beautiful. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, on the way back to RI there was a huge late blizzard… I remember being wrapped in scarves, teeth chattering, clutching a big thermos of coffee, and periodically stomping my feet to keep the feeling in them…</p>
<p>oooh… oooh… oooooh</p>
<p>::ssshhhhhh::</p>
<p><em>over here, in the corner</em> (whispers) He’s back. At first, he came around at the behest of some plaintive PMs to screw some heads on right re merit aid. Now, he’s started his own thread. Hah!</p>
<p>Don’t tell him we’ve noticed; don’t want him to get skittish.</p>
<p>So… is curmudgeon really back? I guess we’ll know for sure if he shows up in the Alley. Whose handling the parimutuel wagering pool?</p>
<p>A laughing slugg is not a pretty sight! Just when I start to think that we might be running out of Sinner’s Alley Believe It Or Not tales of the odd, the unusual, and the unbelievable, you guys deliver new and even weirder stuff. </p>
<p>Alu, in your honor, doddsdad has thrown some beach towels over the tangerine booth and temporarily converted it into an ashram. It doubles as a sweat lodge, for sinners who wish to get nekkid, sweat, and see God. God will be here on Wednesdays between 1 and 3 p.m., and yajnas are performed daily from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. ABC gum, hair picks from the 1980’s, and broken flip flops do not count as offerings. Not unless you want some really bad karma, dude. For the month of August, our resident bartender shall be known as, “Hey you, Swami.” ;)</p>
<p>Speaking of other-worldliness, I am in Southern Nevada, where children normally communicate by screaming. When they’re happy, they scream. When they’re unhappy, they scream. They scream a lot when school is out, so summer here is basically one long scream. I guess, they scream more when it’s hot. </p>
<p>The twin 4-year olds next door have been practicing their Jerry Lewis impressions all morning by standing in their yard and screaming, “Hey, Laaaay-deeee!” They’re gearing up for the big Labor Day Jerry Lewis MDA telethon, which is an event that every red-blooded Southern Nevadan looks forward to every year. And, they’re trying to force me to leave my air-conditioned condo with a box of Nilla Wafers and go out into the convection oven-like 107 degree heat. I know them only as the screaming next door neighbor kids, and they’re sort of cute, like baby Tasmanian Devils. I’ll feed them, later. :)</p>
<p>mootmom: That is such a classic dream and your son is actually doing it! Like the kids in Zits. Unbelievable. I hope it all works out & he’ll have great memories & fodder for writing some day.</p>
<p>My DH’s family had two cars–a red Alpha Romeo and an old blue VW van (they were nicknamed Romeo & Juliette, of course.) </p>
<p>Heat? They were supposed to have heat?</p>
<p>Just caught up on the last few pages and feel that my own week fits right in. I’ve spent a week from hell at a sport tourney for DS & DD to qualify for Nationals, yada yada…staying at the “sleepytime neon motel”, I think it was clean I haven’t started itching yet… </p>
<p>None of the parents had fist fights in the parking lot this time, but emotions were high and everyone looked like boiled briskets in the heat. There was high drama all around, and I hid under a tree in the shade with my hat pulled down over my face, trying to avoid everyone…</p>
<p>RE how surprising sons can be, mine, a mild mannered quiet lad actually took a swing at another boy!.. Could everyone slide down the tangerine booth one more spot and pour me a Chivas on the rocks?</p>
<p>Do they serve bubbly in the sweat lodge? That’s been my drink this week, welcoming S1 home for a month (!) and celebrating S2, aka Mozart, as he giggled maniacally then expired on stage for five nights–letting it rip further with each performance. I’m in the “These boys are a gift!” “Pass the champagne!” phase.</p>
<p>Or…temporary insanity? </p>
<p>Anyway, how about the reappearing divorcee who showed up for the final performance…alone…and followed DH and I out to the car apparently hoping for an invite?? A few months ago, I caught her offering my tipsy husband a week at her ski condo!</p>
<p>jmmom, </p>
<p>I think he <em>may</em> have snuck through here when we weren’t looking-- there are some suspicious topsider footprints in the dust behind the bar, and all the mescal is gone! :eek:</p>
<p>Cheers, Cheers! Here’s to the sons who would be Mozart. And, here’s to the sons who are on the road discovering gas station restrooms all across America. :)</p>
<p>If it weren’t for our housemate, Charles’, blue VW bus with the hand-painted picture of the Mayflower on both sides, we would not be where we are today! 29 years ago, he drove the intrepid Mayflower over the mountains twice in one day to help us move from Santa Cruz to the Bay Area. No seats in the back, of course, and we took turns holding down the boxes of books as they shifted dangerously from one side to the other and threatened to squish our cats. </p>
<p>Hail to the mighty Mayflower and all VW vans that still hoist a sail! Damn the heater components and motor blowers!</p>
<p>Essentials for the VW bus full-fledged experience (beyond the carpet remnant wallpaper):</p>
<p>Dr. Scholl sandals for the females of the species; suede combat boots for the males;
Jefferson Airplane on the radio (could be tricky, may require time travel due to lack of tape decks/DVD players/iPod connectors);
Over-the-shoulder green bookbags (or was that just a Boston-Cambridge phenom?)</p>
<p>…???</p>
<p>You’ll need bubble gum and rubber bands in case of engine trouble.</p>
<p>Anyone else remember the groovy comic-book style VW repair manual?</p>
<p>A rolling slugg gathers no moss…however, they do need new shoes. Buggson called on Saturday and wanted to be reimbursed for a pair of new shoes. </p>
<p>Sluggdad: Where are you? Look around and tell me if you see a sign anywhere that says, “Rodeo Drive.” Sluggdad imagined a pair of shoes costing roughly $6,000.</p>
<p>Buggson: I’m in LA, and I need some shoes. Will you guys reimburse me?</p>
<p>If I’d been there, instead of in the desert watching doves land on hot carports and then hop around like kernals of popcorn, I would have said, “N-O.” I believe it was his decision to quit his summer job and take off for LA-LA Land. Hey, the grim fighting hero’s troubles are always private, according to Jack Kerouac, and as far as I’m concerned, he can use the money he got from selling his vintage Gibson to buy shoes.</p>
<p>So far, I have been unsuccessful at cooling off in the July desert. ;)</p>
<p>
OMG. Too funny. </p>
<p>What did he need shoes for? Wandering minstrels are typically shoeless, no? On the other hand, those plaintive calls for shoes can be interpreted, in a soft moment, as wanting your mommy. Always depends on the mood I am in when those sorts of calls arrive. Soft moment? Of course honey. Other moments? Hmm. Probably those “double-bind” moments that psychologists thought caused schizophrenia back in the '70s…A little shame, a little understanding, a few mixed messages:). Ah, parenting. Brings out the best in all of us. Bubbly all around!</p>
<p>What is it with the shoe fetishes of kids? My littlest S is a shoe-o-holic. He can’t have enough shoes. He begs for shoes. To paraphrase someone (Ben Franklin maybe?) ‘beware of any enterprise that requires new shoes.’ For littlest S, EVERY enterprise, from swimming to sleeping, requires new shoes.</p>
<p>They don’t even need to fit, if they are cool enough, he’d wear them. </p>
<p>Perhaps he’s going to be the next Kenneth Cole?</p>