I spent a lot of time in a quant little area of New England this past week, its only downside being that it is as white as Julia Stiles in
Save The Last Dance (as opposed to Julia Stiles in all her other films.) I think the ratio of vanity license plates to minorities in this place was, oh, a million to one. Oh, what is that? You're wearing black face as a joke? Totally inappropriate, guy. And those seer suckers are way too tight. Anyway, a million to zero.
I did a lot of thinking during my time in the Douglas Sirk film that was my vacation. One of those thoughts was, "Wow, I am a lot better than people who don't know who Douglas Sirk is." Another was, "Don't you people look at me like that, like you've never ridden a tandem bike by yourself!!!" The beach really can be so relaxing, can't it?
The third and final thought I had this past week was, "I want to be someone's Friend With A Van." Think about all the jams one can get into in this peanut butter and helly sandwich that is life. There are many situations in life that are positively unavoidable and require the use of a van. For instance, people are always needing to move large things, whether it be furniture or flat screen TV's or, sure, I'll say what you are expecting me to say ... bod, wait, no. Spell check! Baudelaire anthology. Only your most naive of friends will think they can keep their poetry collections in the same place for more than two motnhs.
People also need to go on expensive, overly planned trips with lots of friends from college and acoustic guitars and hummus dip. You think you can fit all that in a Saab? Think again. When all these situations arise, what happens? Someone says, "Oh, OK, I'll rent a van!" and then once that person has already given Budget a pretty hefty security deposit on their MOTHER'S CREDIT CARD and picked out a really fun ride with leather interior and a 6 CD changer, another person will pipe up, "Oh, hey, we don't need to rent a van! I'll just call my Friend With a Van!" Because some people are fucking selfish and self-centered and don't understand that that the
tandem part is merely a suggestion. But I digress.
We can assume people generally fall into three categories based on this universal truth. They are as follows:
1) People Who Own a Van and Are Thus, The Friend With A Van
2) People Who Have a Friend With A Van
3) People Who Don't Want a Friend With a Van.
Ha! I tricked you here. Impossible. Everyone wants to have a Friend With a Van.
REAL 3) People Who Want a Friend With a Van And Do Not Yet Have One
I'm obviously concentrating on people in category #3 for the time being. Sure, those folks in #2 may turn into #3's once their Friend With a Van dies in terrible car crash in said van because no one should ever transport wild game for a long distance without some sort of substantial entertainment for them, but sometimes even I cannot keep up that kind of pure, unbridled hope and optimism. No, at present, I will focus solely on the #3's.
First step: acquire a van. I've been shopping around, both on the 'net and in parking lots at youth soccer league games. Funny, isn't it? Seems like everyone watching a youth soccer league game has a van! I just don't know why some moms opt for such heavily tinted windows. Anyway, I've been struck by this beaut':
What else can one call this but a modern day chariot? And it's already in my favorite color for a vehicle, "deep depression." Consider that car lease as good as signed.
Next step: make it known to all my friends that I have purchased a van and am now open for business and taking requests to be The Friend With a Van. One way would be to write a blog post about it, letting everyone know.
Yaaay ... I'm done! Oh, what's that? You need to take a trip to IKEA and I'm just the person you so happen to want to go with? Sure thing! But first, how's about a little bike ride?
