The Bug Chronicles: Chapter 3

Previously on The Bug Chronicles:
To Dave and Mary’s dismay, I buy a 1975 VW Bug my sophomore year of college. The Bug is transportationally challenged, to say the least.

Chapter Three: Sophomore Summer

• I decide to drive the Bug from Provo to Phoenix for the summer. Dave and Mary decide that Aunt CC, who has a Bug of her own, should drive with me. It is smooth sailing until Aunt CC and I approach the burgeoning metropolis of Panguitch, Utah, where the oil light goes on for the first time ever, confirming that it actually works. We pull over and realize the car is hemorrhaging black gold—a huge problem as hot oil is the only thing close to a coolant in an old Bug (although VW continues to insist that "air" counts--since when has air counted as anything?!). We make it into Panguitch where the local tow truck owner offers to take us 150 miles out of our way to St. George for the low price of 5 million dollars to have the Bug repaired. The stated need for the trip: no self-respecting Panguitch mechanic would bother learning how to fix anything other than an American car. The stated need is stated with much seriousness. At this precise moment I see an emerald green old Bug with California plates and a BYU sticker pull into a nearby gas station. I jaywalk across the highway, approach my fellow nazimobiler, explain the problem and solicit suggestions. After unsuccessfully rummaging through the ample supply of spare VW parts he keeps in his car, my new friend suggests buying a case of oil and refilling every 50 miles until I get to Phoenix. The gas station owner overhears and offers to sell me the oil at cost in order to stoke a longstanding feud between him and the tow truck owner. I hail Aunt CC over and propose the plan to her, which she wonderfully accepts. At this point I am very grateful I am traveling with Aunt CC instead of her younger sis Mary, as Mary would never go for it. Aunt CC and I arrive in Phoenix 15 hours later, with 20 empty quarts of oil in the back of the car. The next day a mechanic fixes the problem for 25 bucks.
  


• I spend the summer cross-dressing and sweating to death in the non-air-conditioned Bug. The cross-dressing is due to my summer employment at Kinko’s, where I have to wear a Kinko’s dress shirt and one of Dave’s old ties to work every day. The ties make the 133-degree heat inside the Bug unbearable. I am sure the furry seat covers I bought aren’t helping the situation, but I refuse to sacrifice style for comfort and, by “style,” I apparently mean “cross-dressing, sweat-drenched 19-year old driving a beat up car with a plywood floor and Chia seats.” On the bright side, I get to reuse the twelve pairs of khaki pants I bought for the Best Buy gig last year.
  


• I spend days removing the rust from the Bug's rims and paint them white using three cans of Krylon spray paint. They look fabulous. And so begins my Krylon addiction.
  



Better than Trimspa: The Unbelievable Before and After Pics
(Note how careful I was not to get paint on Dave and Mary's driveway)



• At the end of the summer, it is decided that the best way to return the Bug to Provo is to take the trip in two days, driving only in the cooler wee morning hours. 13-year old Archie rides with me while Mary follows behind in her minivan. Archie is, as always, a good sport, but on the second day he opts for the A/C comfort of the minivan, even though it means listening to Billy Joel's "Downeaster Alexa" on repeat the entire time. The Bug survives without incident; the most difficult part of the trip is figuring out how to spend twelve hours in Kanab.
  
  Will Archie write a best-selling nonfiction novelette documenting his stay in the one stop sign town that is Kanab? How much of it will be devoted to watching an “All That” marathon at the Holiday Inn? Were Keenan and Kel EVER funny? Find out next time…