Vehicle

When I was out biking last Saturday I saw a van for sale that caught my eye.


While it was not this exact van, it was quite similar. And I had a thought:

"That would be the ideal automobile for me."

C'est vrai! If I ever want to drive somewhere it is a far location at least two hours away. I could live in this van, just roaming through North America, exploring the wonders of the New World. I would have room for my bikes (or could attach them to the back or roof). Perhaps I could rope some sort of kayak to the roof. Maybe I could attach me to the roof. Or a surfboard. This van just encourages one to use his/her imagination. Obviously this adventure would require a companion. Ideally it would be a male (for me, and for the auto, as I foresee a 1975 van having a few mechanical issues), but if he does not materialise an animal of sorts would do. A small cuddly black bear? Alex. It could help me fish. Or a koala.

How fantastic would that be? Me traversing the continent with my baby bear in the passenger seat. I realise this could perhaps be "illegal" or "frowned upon", but I feel by putting a yellow fishing hat and a pair of John Lennon style sunglasses on the bear when pulled over by cops would solve the problem.

"Ma'am, is that a bear?"
"Good Sir! Surely you do not think that a bear called Alex would wear a fishing hat and sunglasses?"
"Alarminly correct my fair lady. I am stunned by your superior way of speaking. Perhaps we should enjoy a dram of whisky together?"
"My golly that is a delightful proposal. I shall take my whisky with ice, as acceptance of your effort to make nice."

Apparently my roadtrip is taking place in 1800s posh New England.

The roadtrip will come to a tearful end when I arrive at Yosemite National Park and release Alex, my bear friend. He's growing up now, you see. He is approaching puberty, and starting to take interest in lady bears. It's going to be heart breaking, much like the scene in the Fox and the Hound when Big Mama releases Todd into the wild, which, when I was 12, made me cry and cry and then cry some more and try to hug Mr. Kitty. However, for those of you who knew Friskey back in the day, one would recognise that hugging the "attack cat" (as dubbed by the staff at the vet college) was obviously a ridiculous action.

Anyway.

So I would release Alex the Bear into the park, to roam, and to find his place in life... in the background...

"Almost Paradise"...


I will then slowly walk back to my 1975 Dodge Van... alone. A stranger will tap me on the shoulder...

"Ma'am, I think you dropped something."

A small baby elephant... looking... for a home. Looking... for me.

On the road again...