"[...] we were attempting to increase the complexity and
cost of an outdoor lantern holder for the Westy [...]"

I see you think like me -- very well! If I look at a device or problem
to be solved and cannot make it more complicated, then I feel that I
have failed, somehow.

--
Jack "Rocket j Squirrel" Elliott
1984 Westfalia, auto trans,
Bend, Ore.

On 06/09/2014 04:38 PM, Jim Felder wrote:
> At Felder Industries, we all wear many hats. I recently broke short a
> design session, where we were attempting to increase the complexity and
> cost of an outdoor lantern holder for the Westy, to examine for myself the
> situation in our Men’s Room, of which many complaints have come to my
> recent attention. I will not delve into the outcome of my visit, to turn a
> pun, but I was bemused by a rhyme I found written on one of the stalls in
> the style of a popular children’s author whom I cannot place exactly. Maybe
> Mark Twain?
>
>
> I thought I would share this before the employee who wrote it—a chap with
> entirely too much time on his hands at the expense of yours truly—is made
> to scour it off.
>
>
> We at Felder Industries hope that it elicits the mirth among the Vanagon
> faithful as it did among those who toil so relentlessly for them.
>
>
> *Broken Things Are Everywhere*
>
>
> Hop.
>
>
> Hop on top.
>
>
> Hop on top, said Mom to Pop.
>
>
> I cannot do that now, said Pop.
>
>
> I have to go into my shop.
>
>
> I cannot do that right now, Mom.
>
>
> I’m working on my Vanagon.
>
>
> ——————————————-
>
>
> This never stops, said Mom to Pop.
>
>
> You work, work, work, work, work, work, work,
>
>
> Then hear a ping, or poof, or WHOP!
>
>
> Heater valve or Westy top,
>
>
> A zip, or rip, or flip or flop.
>
>
> We never go, we only stay.
>
>
> Our vacations are delays!
>
>
> The burning insulation’s shot!
>
>
> These seats are ugly! They look awful!
>
>
> And they smell just like Falafel.
>
>
> Another smell much like like a wok
>
>
> Is coming from behind the clock.
>
>
> The sweet perfume of antifreeze
>
>
> Will cause the trees to drop their leaves
>
>
> If it’s not stopped!
>
>
> And yet you say it can’t be fixed
>
>
> Till you return it to the hicks
>
>
> That weld upon it in the sticks.
>
>
> The driveway’s flooded—thanks a lot!
>
>
> It’s all a dusty, rusty rot.
>
>
> I’m tired of this, go find a cot.
>
>
> ————————————————
>
>
> Why won’t it start? Why won’t it start?
>
>
> We should be driving to the park.
>
>
> The heat is cold. The lights are dark.
>
>
> Just replacing every part
>
>
> Should make it start. But yet
>
>
> It won’t. I want to cry.
>
>
> But yet I don’t. Those tears are not
>
>
>  From sadness but from parts so hot…
>
>
> What could be the cause of this?
>
>
> I do not know.
>
>
> Go ask the List.
>
>
>  From there to here
>
>
>  From here to there
>
>
> Broken things are everywhere!
>
>
> ————-
>
>
> Every weekend I have shown it:
>
>
> If it works I do not own it.
>
>
> I can’t afford the things that work.
>
>
> I only work where gremlins lurk.
>
>
> I buy on eBay from a man
>
>
> Who has a rusty salvage van
>
>
> With a rating now of three
>
>
> And all his sales are thanks to me,
>
>
> With parts no better than the ones
>
>
> With which I’m having all my fun.
>
>
> I promise that I will not buy
>
>
>  From him again. But it’s a lie.
>
>
> I need so much, but cannot purchase
>
>
> Good parts to raise this van from worthless.
>
>
> All that work. What have I missed?
>
>
> I do not know. Go ask the List.
>
>
>  From there to here, from here to there,
>
>
> Broken things are everywhere.
>
>
> —————————————
>
>
>
> All our money goes for tools
>
>
> and cleanup where the motor drools.
>
>
> Where oil and water mix in pools.
>
>
> It does not work. I do not learn.
>
>
> I’d rather see our money burn
>
>
> Than let the dealer have a turn.
>
>
> But that would take more than I earn.
>
>
> The dealer knows but will not say
>
>
> He would not touch it anyway.
>
>
> Holy cow! We have brakes—Oh No!
>
>
> That means the clutch is next to blow.
>
>
> The two are worked together so,
>
>
> If you fix one, the other goes.
>
>
> Oh, no, it did not start with me!
>
>
> That plan was hatched in Germany.
>
>
> But now it runs. What was that hiss?
>
>
> Stinky steam or piston mist?
>
>
> I do not know. Go ask the List.
>
>
>  From there to here, from here to there,
>
>
> Broken things are everywhere.
>
>
> ——————————-
>
>
> See me underneath the car?
>
>
> Hurling tools and curses far?
>
>
> Do you see my arms with scars?
>
>
> I’m soaking wet!
>
>
> I’m oily-oiled. My dreams are smashed.
>
>
> My plans are foiled.
>
>
> I cannot see. My yard is soiled.
>
>
> And not with dirt that flowers grow in,
>
>
> But with things you cannot go in.
>
>
> Nowhere is it safe to mow in.
>
>
> Turn up the sound! Where is the knob?
>
>
> The neighbors cannot hear me sob.
>
>
> They must not, should not hear the throb.
>
>
> I cannot let them hear me so,
>
>
> Whose yard is stacked around with parts
>
>
> In plastic bins and garden carts,
>
>
> Not to mention row on row
>
>
> Of Vanagons that will not go.
>
>
> They think I am a fool, I know
>
>
> I do not let on that it’s so.
>
>
>  From there to here, and here to there,
>
>
> Broken things are everywhere.
>
>
>  From everywhere and everyone,
>
>
> Broken parts of Vanagons.
>
>
> I will not live to see them run
>
>
> or ever have the funny fun
>
>
> I imagined that I *would* have
>
>
> in the Vanagon I *could* have.
>
>
> ——————————————
>
>
> I heard somewhere that there is one
>
>
> That always runs, and runs and runs.
>
>
> All day long, and hour on hour
>
>
> it conquers hills with lots of power,
>
>
> With sensors Oil, Temp 2 and Hall
>
>
> That never heard the rollback’s call.
>
>
> It runs as quiet as a mouse
>
>
> And costs more money than a house.
>
>
> But I am stuck with what I own.
>
>
> I shake my head. I cringe. I moan!
>
>
> My children smirk. My wife berates
>
>
> As my van coughs and hesitates
>
>
> Before retuning to its berth.
>
>
> I try to calculate its worth
>
>
> In windshield, bumpers, tach and parts
>
>
> But when I do, that’s when it starts.
>
>
> It starts and runs, it runs and starts!
>
>
> Come, honey and come, kids! Run!
>
>
> Let’s hit the road, let’s have our fun!
>
>
> Hooray, hooray, my work is done!
>
>
> Now it’s time to go, and play,
>
>
> With spares and tools and Triple-A,
>
>
> The German monster’s underway!
>
>
> What’s sounding like a pounding fist?
>
>
> I do not know. Go ask the List.
>
>
>  From there to here, from here to there,
>
>
> Broken things are everywhere.
>