vw bus just like 1969

Our family quest for today was to find an ice rink. We drove and drove and drove and when we arrived at what we thought was an ice rink . . . it wasn't. We sought directions to a real ice rink from the information booth at the mall. But, alas, the key learning for today is this . . . never stop at a mall to ask directions to an ice rink when you have two daughters. Bottom line . . . we never made it to the ice rink, but we did do a lot of shopping.

As we were leaving the mall parking lot a VW bus was just in front of us, and then it dawned on me. I have been thinking about getting a new car. I thought I wanted a Jeep, but what I really want is a vintage 60s VW bus, just like the one my buddies and I drove from North Carolina to New York in August, 1969 . . . the ultimate road trip to the ultimate rock festival of all time . . . Woodstock.
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Song 251: Aqualung
Artist: Jethro Tull
Album: Aqualung
Year: 1971
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Sitting on a park bench
eyeing little girls with bad intent.
Snot running down his nose
greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.
Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the frilly panties run.
Feeling like a dead duck
spitting out pieces of his broken luck.

Sun streaking cold
an old man wandering lonely.
Taking time
the only way he knows.
Leg hurting bad,
as he bends to pick a dog-end
he goes down to the bog
and warms his feet.

Feeling alone
the army's up the rode
salvation à la mode and
a cup of tea.
Aqualung my friend
don't start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it's only me.
Do you still remember
December's foggy freeze
when the ice that
clings on to your beard is
screaming agony.
And you snatch your rattling last breaths
with deep-sea-diver sounds,
and the flowers bloom like
madness in the spring.