COFFEE MUG CELEBRATES ANDOVER

Looking for a Christmas Present? Tell me what's wrong with this:

http://www.amazon.com/US-State-Flag-ANDOVER-York/dp/B002PS8LHE/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&s=miscellaneous&qid=1271277738&sr=8-9

You guessed it! If is a coffee mug! If it was a beer mug, they might sell a couple of them. But a coffee mug?

NEED A MAP?

I found this to be hilarious.
http://www.amazon.com/Street-Road-Map-Andover-York/dp/B002ULMB7C/ref=sr_1_2/177-5901340-2214450?ie=UTF8&s=office-products&qid=1271277157&sr=8-2

It is a map of the village of Andover for $9.99 (normally $19.99). Andover is a very small village. If you need a map to get around Andover... something is seriously wrong. And even at 50% off, if you are willing to pay $9.99 for the map? Then you are a fool who needs to be parted with their money. I could draw this map on the back of a postage stamp in 60 seconds and save you the cost! The map is completly worthless because there aren't "X's" marking the location of all the bars.

If you haven't been home in a while, you might want to consider getting this map. The last thing you want to do is end up on Greenwood street on some dark night unable to find your way back to Elm Street.

ANDOVER STATISTICS

Here's some trivia information about Andover from Wikipedia. A bunch of information you never really wanted to know:

The 2000 census reported 1,073 people lived in the village. This included 432 households. 30.6% of those households had children. 53.9% of them were occupied by married couples. 14.8% percent of them has someone living alone who was 65 years of age or older. The average family size was 3.09.

26% of the population was under the age of 18 while 16.3% were 65 years or older. And probably explaining many things, for every 100 females there were 94.78 males. For every 100 females age 18 and over, there were only 89 males.

The medium income in the village was $31,563. Around 12% of the population was below the poverty line.

And just in case anyone was wondering, the elevation of Andover is 1,660 feet.

IS CLASSMATES.COM A RIP OFF?

Many members of the Class of 1988 have registered with Classmates.com.

http://www.classmates.com/community/class/list?communityID=8210066&communityType=7

Is it worth your time and effort? Or is Classmates.com a rip off? Personally, I think Classmates.com is a waste of time. The free version is filled with advertisements, runs very slow, and has limited functionality. The interface is too busy and not intuitive. If you forget your password, then you have to create a new account (many classmates have created 2 or 3 accounts).

You are continually hounded to buy the gold membership. The payment starts at $2.46 per month. Don't take this the wrong way - I like everyone in the Class of 88. I just don't $30/year like you. Especially given the limited functionality of Classmates.com. For example, if you want Classmates.com to pass a person's address to google maps so you can see where they live on a map - you have to get a gold membership. Come on! If you were suckered into the Gold Membership, please leave a comment on your thoughts about it. Am I wrong?

Most of the information is outdated and members log on infrequently. I have yet to find an easy way to see new content without clicking through every class member. One of the banners said "Have you seen the latest pictures of " and has a listing of classmates. I clicked on one and the pictures were over three years old!

If you are desperate and really want to reconnect, there is information on Classmates (other than outdated pictures). If you really want to see answers to answers to silly surveys (your favorite indoor activity is cooking), then Classmates is for you. If you want to read messages that people left for each other (usually thinking they were private messages), it could be a lot of fun.

Like all social networks, you have to pay attention to privacy. Mind your manners. Be careful what you write. But Classmates takes these concerns a step further. Your actions on Classmates are tracked and reported. If you look at a classmate's profile, they will be notified via email (unless you remember to click "Remove Visit"). There is no lurking on Classmates - your activities are a matter of public record.

There are better tools if you'd like to stay in touch. The one that comes immediately to mind? The Class of 88 web site: http://GilbertInternetTV.com/88 . Need something that is more interactive? Try Facebook - many of us are online.

ANDOVER WEBCAM

Are you home sick? Want to visit Andover? There is a webcam sitting on top of the school that overlooks the valley. Using the Time-Lapse button, you can watch the fog roll off the valley and lift off the hills. Watch the sun set in the west. Or see the sun rise stretch light across the town. Check it out, and nominate it for the best webcam.


http://www.instacam.com/showcam.asp?id=ANDCS@size=L

POST CARDS FROM ANDOVER

Want to send someone a post card from Andover? Visit this site:

http://www.epodunk.com/cgi-bin/createPostcard.php?cardNum=1704422

ANDOVER FOURTH OF JULY 2009
Did you miss the Andover fourth of July? Melanie Streeter has some pictures available on the Wellsville Daily Reporter web site:

http://www.wellsvilledaily.com/news/x135740005/SLIDE-SHOW-Fourth-of-July-in-Andover

DEF LEPPARD DOES DARIEN LAKE

Gunter Glieben Glauchen Globen. Musically, I live by two rules: (1) You can never play enough U2. (2) There is only one way to turn Def Leppard: up!

Several years ago, I had the opportunity to see U2 in Vegas. As hard as I've tried, I have never been able to get into another U2 concert. Even though I've seen U2, I have never seen Def Leppard.

On June 25th, I heard a radio commercial that Def Leppard was coming to Darien Lake, so, I called Linda to get some tickets. Come to find out, the concert was in two days and the only seats left were ten rows back from the stage. Without hesitation, I ordered those great seats.

It has been a long time since I've done a concern at Darien Lake and much has changed. The concert arena has grown-up and looks very professional. This concert featured Cheap Trick, Poison, and Def Leppard. Cheap Trick was stuck at the airport, so, we got a double-dose of Poison. Then Def Leppard came on and played all my favorites.

I became concerned the concert would be ruined by the drunk standing next to Linda. After he tried to pick a fight with a family man sitting in front of us and spilt beer on Linda I was ready to get it on and yelled "Did he just spill beer on you?" Linda calmed me down and I came to realize that getting beer dumped on you is just part of going to a concert. What would a concert me without that?

The drunk stumbled off with his girlfriend halfway through the show, fell in the aisle, and never made it back to his seats.

Aside from the disruption, the concert was awesome. I left def and happy.

THE WELLSVILLE TEXAS HOT
Two texas hots, hold the onion. Fries with gravy. And a vanilla shake. Everyone has their favorite Texas Hot combination. That's mine.

There really is no other restaurant in the world like the Wellsville Texas Hot. Often, when returning to Andover, we have to put the Texas Hot on our dinner plans.

Over the years, we have tried to replicate the tastes of the Texas Hot at home. You can purchase a jar of sauce. With the right kind of hot dogs and the right kind of buns, you can get close - but never close enough.

In recent years, we have found Coach Tony's - a hot dog sauce similar to the Texas Hot sauce, but with more of a black pepper taste. Coach Tony's is fine, but pales in comparison to the real thing.

The best way to enjoy a Texas Hot? The traditional way. Stand in line and wait for a booth. Then cram a family of 5 into a booth made for 4. Let the youngest play with the juke box and spill sugar all over the table. And then enjoy a great meal served lightening fast.

The second best way to enjoy a Texas Hot is to get your order to go. The hot dogs will all be smashed and shushed together, but the french fries will be steamed soft and perfect.

Visiting the Wellsville Texas Hot brings back great memories. Little has changed in the past thirty years - including many of the people who still work there. Familiar faces, familiar food, and great memories.

To read the entire Gilbert Family Vacation 2009 to Disney World, check out this link:

Still Writing

Gilbert Family Vacation
Chapter 4
The Black Cloud

We often joke there is a black cloud hanging over our house. Our house must have been built atop an old Indian Burial Ground because we’ve always had the worse luck. I am convinced that someday I’ll arrive home from work to a scene right out of Poltergeist where a swirling black cloud sucks our house into oblivion. If it isn’t an old Indian Burial Ground, then how else can you explain it?

The van is repaired and my mother is home from her trip to St. Mary’s Mental Hospital. We are in the final stretches of vacation preparation with less than three weeks to go. Like the project manager I am, I have developed our Work Breakdown Structure complete with tasks printed on a calendar detailing everyone’s responsibilities. The charter has been signed off, the specifications completed, and the executive sponsor (my wife) is onboard. We are knee deep in the execution phase of our family project. Each night, every family member (even the 5-year-old) updates the project with their task progress.

The first week passes and everything is on schedule – a testimony to my acute project management skills. As we enter the second week, my wife calls me. “You Mom wants to go back to the hospital.”

I talked with my mother because she didn’t feel good, she can’t explain it, and she doesn’t know what is wrong. I immediately think she is having a panic attack, so I ask her what is going on. “I don’t want you to go to Florida,” she admits. “You don’t realize how much I rely on you!”

“Mom, we have a large network of friends,” I calmly explained, ”You and John will be fine,” (John is my father). “I want you to get a follow-up doctor’s appointment to make sure everything with the UTI is fine.”

My mother visited her doctor where, as a matter of routine, they check her pulse and determine it was irregular. Now, when I go to the gym, I strive to keep my heart rate around 145. If I can get it to 150 – I am doing a really hard work-out. Her heart was 160 beats per minute. “Can you feel your heart beating that fast?” the doctor asked her.

“No,” she answered. “I feel perfectly fine!” And with that, she took her third ambulance ride to a hospital, and I spent another all-nighter in an Emergency room before they finally admitted her into a room.

Doctors practice medicine. They have to practice because they never get it right. That is why people have to be patients. You have to be patient while the doctor practices on you. And so, for a week my mother is poked and prodded and zapped and electrically burned. They gave her medicine that make her heart go nuts just so they could see if they could get it to return to normal. They crammed this down her throat and that in her nose. She has taken it all in stride and only really complains about how long it takes to get ice for her drinking water.

T Minus three days before we depart

I had a lengthy conversation with my Mother’s nurse. Should we cancel the vacation? I’d hate to get to the Pennsylvania border and have to turn around! The nurse assured me that everything was fine and we should go enjoy ourselves in Florida. Our concerns immediately shifted to ‘who is going to take care of the dog and cat? Who is going to make sure my Dad gets fed (because he is Microwave Illiterate)? Who is going to bring my mother home from the hospital?’ Luckily, our long list of friends are willing to volunteer to help. I was able to sit in my easy chair, relax, and take a deep breath. This vacation was really going to happen!

T Minus two days before we depart

“Do you want to buy a new van?” my wife asked.

“Why? Are you having trouble getting our deposit back from my attempt to get us one?” I laughed.

“Well, yes,” she answered, “but that’s not the reason. Our van died on the way to work this morning.”

Have you ever had one of those days when nothing seems to go right? Have you ever had a bad luck stream last for a week? Or a month? How about years – have you ever had a bad luck stream last for years? If your house was built on an old Indian Burial Ground, your answer would be “Why, yes!” If your name was Craig T. Nelson, you would warn me about the big black cloud, dead bodies in the pool, and voices coming out of your television. If, on the other hand, you are part of the normal population – all this must seem very odd to you. For me, this is just ‘A Day in the Life of the Gilberts’.

“Since you had YOUR chance to get us a van,” she chaffed, “it is now MY turn. I am going with my friends tonight to find us a new van.”

There is only one answer any self-respecting husband can provide to such a rude and arrogant remark: “Yes, Dear.”

And so, as a pride of cougars on a nightly hunt, the three women went after unsuspecting salesmen. They tore them apart! They made them squeal! They made them beg for mercy! And they came home with a deal that is… well… let’s just say it is huge Rochester. Huge. “We leave town in 37 hours and you are going to buy a Kia?” I asked my wife.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I really liked the van.”

Oh no. I don’t like where this is going!

Holiday Roooooo oh oh oh oh oh oh oad. Holiday Roooooo oh oh oh oh oh oh oad.’

Gilbert Family Vacation
Chapter 3: My Aunt Edna



Every chance you get, tell people that you want to live. No matter what the circumstances (location, time of day, what you ate for lunch), tell people you want to live. Because I’ve never had a Urinary Track Infection (UTI), but I’ve come to understand they can be very painful. Recently, a beautiful young model in South America developed a UTI that expanded into her blood stream. Doctors tried saving her by cutting off her hands and feet. I’m uncertain how dismembering someone helps with painful peepees, but that was the medical thinking at the moment. Dismembered and peepeeless, the model died within a week.

My mother has had complained about aches and pains for a long time but refused to go to the doctor until one evening (only three weeks from the start of our vacation) the urge struck her to such a degree, she gladly took an ambulance ride to the first doctor they could find. As she was diagnosed with UTI, the nurse asked her to measure her pain on the scale on 1 to 10. Her unfortunate response was “The pain is so bad, I wish I were dead!” And thus the dilemma. In today’s modern age of high technology and big thinkers, one can not wish they were dead (even due to UTI) unless, through obvious conclusion, they have suicidal tendencies. By law of the great state of New York, such a statement prompts a psychological evaluation.

When it comes to purchasing cars, I am much smarter due to a story a friend sent me: Confessions of a Car Salesman. I have learned car salesmen make you wait so the salesman can control you. I guess that is why you have to wait so long at the emergency room: they want to have control over you. They want to beat you submissively until you can not longer question the $10 Advil.

Even though my mother’s ambulance arrived to the hospital at exactly 5:15pm, it wasn’t until 1:00am that my mother was diagnosed with UTI and given her first dose of antibiotics. Unfortunately, the story doesn’t end there. Remember my mother’s rabid attempts at suicide when she arrived at the emergency room (complaining about the pain)? That requires a trip to the county psych ward for the psychological evaluation. My mother’s second ambulance ride was to St. Mary’s in downtown Rochester. As they loaded her into the ambulance at 1am, after 8 agonizingly long and terribly boring hours waiting at the ER, I only had one thought on my mind: “I wonder if Taco Bell is still open for Fourth Meal?” Because if a man is to stay awake all night, he needs Mexican substance.

After a satisfying Taco run, I allowed my GPS to steer me into the deep bowls of the city. This was clearly not a neighborhood I would want to be caught in after sun-down (much less after 1am). After parking in a very scary parking garage, I couldn’t find an unlocked door into the hospital. “This must seem odd,” I thought, “I am trying to break into a mental institution.”

I stood at the main entrance waving my arms frantically to a security guard within. He seemed un-phased (probably due to how normal my antics to get his attention must have seemed to him). “You have to go to the emergency entrance,” he explained.

“How do I get there?”

“It is on the other side of the hospital,” he motioned with his hand. After walking completely around the entire city block in the cold dark of night in a neighborhood I should not have been in, I reached the emergency room entrance to find that same security guard that coldly greeted me before. “I am glad you found it,” he waved me inside while looking around the parking lot, “This isn’t a very safe neighborhood, you know?”

‘Then why didn’t you let me take the way you took?’ I thought, but did not say.

Mom had already been taken in, and after passing through two security check points, I was allowed to see her. I had to leave all my belongings at one of the security check points because the crazies might take them from me and use them. I considered removing my belt because someone might tackle me, rip it from me, and run off to hang themselves. But I’ve recently lost weight and know the belt was my pants only savior from gravity – I pulled my sweater down to hide my belt from the guards and decided to take my chances.

I found my mother in a large brightly lit completely white room. There were only two items in the room – an uncomfortable gurney , and a TV within a wood plexi-glass cage. From the hall way came screams and incoherent babble from the other guests. If you weren’t crazy before entering this place, you had a good fighting chance to become crazy before leaving!

The entire visit to the psych ward was because my mother failed to tell someone she wanted to live. Instead, she admitted the pain was killing her. Therefore, I must repeat and plead with you – please, at every turn in your life, tell people that you wish to live. Anything less and you risk a short trip to St Mary’s in the middle of the night.

As we waited for the psychologist, I asked “How long do you think you’ve had a UTI?”

“At least 2 or 3 months,” she admitted. 2 or 3 months? At least? I get ornery if there isn’t an ample supply of 2-ply Extra-soft Charmin, and she lived with this for 2 or 3 months?

A psychologist interviewed my mother and determined she possessed the appropriate amount of insanity to be released. But by now it was 4am, and I needed to get up for work in 30 minutes. I was just glad to get to bed before I needed to get up!

The next day, I visited my mother to see how she was doing. She seemed unsatisfied with her eleven hours of medical car. “I still don’t feel very good,” she admitted. Oh no. We are set to leave in only three weeks. I don’t like where this is going!

Holiday Roooooo oh oh oh oh oh oh oad. Holiday Roooooo oh oh oh oh oh oh oad.’

Chapter 2
The search for the pea green station wagon.

In the movie RV, Robin Williams traded plane tickets for an RV rental so he could take his family on a cross country journey. I imagined trading our broken mini-van for a new, giant van that had all the modern bells and whistles!

Our current van was a giant mistake, and I was sure not to be taken by another salesman. I did my research. I determined what I was willing to pay per month, how much I would put down, and how much I wanted for a trade-in. So, as we drove to the dealership, I lectured Linda on what we would and would not do. I would be in control of the deal this time. All Linda needed to do was stay quit let me do all the talking!

When we arrived, Linda dutifully let me be in control. I told the salesman I was interested in two vans: a silver 2008, and if we couldn't afford that, a blue 2006. After a test drive, he showed us a brand new red 2008 that had all the bells and whistles. "OK," I said confidently, "Lets see what the red 2008 would cost too."

Our Salesman, Mr. Tobacco, went to talk with his manager. I don't know why sales guys always talk to their managers, and leave you waiting for twenty minutes. I guess there is a long line at the manager’s office, and our sales guy has to argue really hard for us. Tobacco returned with two prices. "The new Red one is $430 per month."

I laughed, "OK, that isn't happening." I made it clear, I wanted the monthly payment to be under $250.

"We are in luck then, the silver van is only $285 per month." Looking back, I understand the sales tactics. But sitting there at the moment, I didn't see what was happening. They knew we couldn't afford the most expensive van on the lot - this was just for contrast. Luckily it didn't work - I was on my game!

"We can't afford that. Besides, you did 72 months on a used van, I'm not doing more then 60. Lets talk about that blue 2006."

Tobacco thought fast, "I don't want to sell you something you don't want. How can we make this work? Could you put more money down? Could you go to, say, $260 per month?"

At that point, I cracked. I looked to Linda and she gave me the “You are in charge, Mr. Man,” look. I looked back to Tobacco and without my knowledge, the initiative shifted to the salesman. He presented me something I wanted and then told me I couldn't have it - a standard salesman ploy and I fell for it! "OK," I offered, "Throw on another $500 down, but it has to be under $260/mo.”

After another trip from the manager's office, Tobacco explained "I can get your payment between $240 and $259 if you go 66 months instead of 60."

I really didn't want to go beyond 5 years... but what's another six months? I looked to Linda and she was clearly taking a hands-off approach, “What ever you want, *dear*,” she said sarcastically.

I had lost the initiative and was now nerves. "I need to take another look at the van." Linda and I went outside and looked the van over one more time, then returned.

"What did you decide?" Mr. Tobacco asked.

I still wasn't sure where this was going to land financially and had a hundred questions. "Let's try the 66 months" I started.

To my surprise, Tobacco stood with hand outstretched "Congratulations Mr. Gilbert on purchasing a van." I just did what? "How would to like to take care of the down payment?"

Still shocked, I handed him my credit card. I guess we just agreed to buy the van! The shock wore off and was replaced with excitement! We just bought a van!

When Tobacco left with my credit card, I stood and did my happy dance 'we just bought a va-a-a-an!'

I looked to my lovely bride to join the celebration and found her sitting with arms folded. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," she frowned.

The celebration was crashing. "Come on! We just bought a van. We need to celebrate!," I explained.

Tobacco returned with my credit card receipt. "There are several people in line before you at the business office, so, I'll take care of all the details and call the bank on Monday so you don’t have to wait." Gee, that was nice of him!

With that, Tobacco took us to the exit, congratulated us, and pushed us out the front door.

I was still living high from my celebration and doing my happy dance as we walked back to our car. "What did we just do?" Linda asked.

"We just bought a Va-aa-an" I sung.

We got in the car and started driving away. "Yes. But what did we just buy?"

"I don't understand the question."

"How much does the van cost?"

I couldn't understand why she was being so silly. "The van cost between $240 and $259 per month."

"Yes, but which one? What was the final price on the van? Does that include an extended warranty? What did we just buy?" The logic of her questions was depressing. "You broke all of your rules. You went longer than 5 years, you put too much down, and you went to high on the monthly payment. Do you know you are paying them $200 to take our trade-in?" Wow, was I in the same room with her? Why didn't I see any of this? "You are such a sucker and that guy just ripped you off!" What happened?
Sadly, I called the dealership’s business office and confirmed everything Linda had just told me. Linda continued to rub it in, “We don’t have time to continue shopping. If we don’t take this deal, we’ll have to get the old van repaired!” And there it was… Mr. Man crumbles into his typical failure.

And so it was. I canceled the deal and we decided to repair the old van. When we returned home, I needed to take the van to the mechanic so he could begin the repairs. However, when I turned the van’s ignition, the engine made two clicks and failed to start! Oh no…. I don’t like where this is going!


‘Holiday Roooooo oh oh oh oh oh oh oad. Holiday Roooooo oh oh oh oh oh oh oad.’

Ahhhhh... memories of Clark Groswold's cross-country trek to Walley World dance through my head. Loading the family into their new pea-green station wagon, Clark headed out into classic movie history. Who can forget that theme song? http://www.evtv1.com/player.aspx?itemnum=8493&aid=19

There I was, sitting in a meeting at work when conversation drifted off topic and onto Disney. "Have you seen the great deal Disney is offering?" Nick mentioned. "Buy 4 nights, get 3 free. It includes park tickets and a $200 gift card for only $1200!"

Immediately, my mind raced through the financials. I have used a Disney Credit card for years, earning 1% toward a Disney vacation. I had built $1050 worth of points. That, plus the gift card equals FREE DISNEY VACATION!

It took absolutely no convincing Linda - she would live at Disney if she could. If we could simply get to Disney, we could have a free vacation. The economy is difficult, so, our goal? Minimize costs. We'll drive instead fly. And eat picnic lunches, poptarts for breakfast, and McDonald's dollar meals for dinner. Driving would be 48-hours of “stop touching me!” caged quality family time. I was on the fence about affording the trip, so, I asked Linda to book it (before the vacation offer expired) during the February break so long as we could cancel it. This would allow us to think about it. We could take our time to weigh the costs and consider our options.

Before Christmas, Linda booked the vacation. While at the Disney web site, she selected an offer to have Mickey Mouse call the kids on Christmas to wish them Merry Christmas! On Christmas morning, while the kids were unwrapping gifts and the Disney Parade is on TV, the phone rang and it was Mickey Mouse. We put Mickey on speaker phone: "Merry Christmas Kids! I just heard you are coming to visit me at Disney World. I look forward to seeing you then!"

My jaw dropped - what did Mickey just say? The kid's eyes lit up and they screamed "We are going to Disney!" My jaw was still dropped – what did Mickey just say?

"We are?" I asked in disbelief. We had simply made a reservation, but hadn't decided. I guess Mickey made the decision for us – as far as the kids were concerned: we were going to Disney!

My daughter used her new cell phone (Christmas Present) to immediately text to all of her friends “We are going to Disney!”

Our phone rang again. This time it was our friend Lisa. “I hear you are going to Disney for the February Break”

“Uhm, yep. I guess news travels fast.”

“I just talked to my husband,” Lisa explained, “and asked if we could go with you and he said we could!”

This was very unexpected. It’s great – we’ve known Lisa for 12 years, her daughter is best friends with our daughter, she’s the godmother of one of my sons. My delayed enthusiasm was the slow realization that something out of my control was happening very quickly. This Disney dream was suddenly a done deal and I still hadn’t had my first cup of coffee.

“We can stay at the same resort and have adjoining rooms,” Lisa suggested.

“Oh…,” I tried to process what I was hearing, “I… I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” My youngest son can be a bit of a terror and difficult to control. He would easily victimize our friends. Besides – we aren’t early risers. We usually get to the Disney parks around noon or 1 in the afternoon. Lisa is a rise-and-shine kinda 7am person.

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine. I’ll just tell Disney that Linda and I are sisters.”

The movement of time during the past days (or has it been weeks?) is a blur. You can’t simply go to Disney – this is a major event requiring significant planning. Where are we going? What are we doing? How do we get there? What time will Donald Duck be standing on the corner of the park we’ll be attending and what angle will the sunlight be to obtain the perfect photograph of our children hugging Donald and screaming “We Love Disney!”? All this has to be carefully and meticulously planned in advance. Does the Turkey sandwich at the ABC Commissary at the Hollywood Studios Park (formally MGM) have tomatoes? Because we don’t like tomatoes and can you special order one without? You need to know these things weeks in advance of going! If the fireworks end at 8:30, will we return from the park in time to get Margaritas at the resort so we can drink ourselves into a slosh before closing time? There are many essential things that must be carefully calculated and planned into precise itineraries. Because if you don’t, you end up wandering through the flood of people, standing in massive lines, and never really doing anything.


Nearly 4 years ago, I wanted to go to Hershey Pennsylvania on vacation. I hadn’t had a vacation in years, and by God – this was going to be a good one. To make the trip, we needed a van. So, we foolishly and impulsively purchased a piece of junk that had a big price tag. We bought it for all the bells and whistles because it had the complete extra package. “Nice radio… good paint job… lets buy it!” The van has been nothing but trouble, and we are still paying on the 5-year loan!

Tom (Lisa’s husband) is an engineer and a hobby mechanic who has done repairs on our van. “Is your van going to make it to Florida?” he asked one morning at breakfast.

“If our van can’t drive another 3 thousand miles”, I proudly explained, “then we have bigger problems then whether or not it’ll get us to Florida!”

Tom is a good friend, so, he didn’t question the logic of my statement. He probably should have because we decided to get the van checked out to make sure it could make the trip. The garage called back with a laundry list of problems and a repair estimate that made the dollars start to curl.

“You know,” Linda responded to my tirade at the estimate, “there are some great deals on new vans. We could trade-in the van and drive to Florida in a brand new van!” A new van? What happened to keeping this trip cheap? I don’t like where this is heading….

Didn’t Clark Grisswald go to Wallyworld in a brand new station wagon? All we need to do if find a pea-green mini-van and we’ll be all set!

‘Holiday Roooooo oh oh oh oh oh oh oad. Holiday Roooooo oh oh oh oh oh oh oad.’