from the old days of aircooled buses and weak heaters ...

  For Those Who Take Trips in the Winter
      by Robert W. Service-Advisor

  Strange tales are told, 'bout the Winter's cold,
  In Volkswagen buses so true,
  When the wind's fierce howl drowns the tranny's growl
  And there ain't enough heat for you.
  When that very same wind is trying to bend
  The steering wheel out of your hand
  And your muscles all ache when you step on the brake
  To slow the Velocity Van.
  With the numbness that spread from your butt to your head
  'Cause the feelings gone out of your toes,
  And you're wondering where, in that junk pile back there,
  Are those warmer and woolier clothes.

  For the three hundredth time, you receite the rhyme
  And the reason that caused you to go
  On this journey through land made dead, white, and bland
  By the hands of Ol' Winter and Snow.
  But you arrive there on time, in the arctic-like clime,
  And relate to them all of the pain
  Of the bone-chilling cold, and the driver so bold
  To have beaten Ol' Winter again.
  Through the window you stare at the bus parked out there,
  Covered now all over with snow;
  And next time, for sure, you swear now to cure
  Those heater boxes down there below!