Week 50: VW Brasilia 1973

Today's car is vintage South American exotica with a 1973 Volkswagen Brasilia. These foreign-released vehicles are fun because they are both familiar yet slightly off, like a dream where people you know have different colored eyes than they usually own.

That eye color reference comes to mind because my 11-year-old son mentioned he had a dream where his eyes were purple. I think he also said he was a dragon in that dream, which I suppose messes with the metaphor of the Brasilia and of being only slightly unrecognizable.

The main connection to this car, however, isn't dreams, but school. Today is Racer Z's first day of sixth grade, and if that doesn't match being recognizable yet different, than nothing does. I just came back inside from a blustery, rainy outside, where my son and I waited for his bus together, me worriedly explaining to check the tree branches so as to not stand under big branches that might fall in the wind.

Notice I used present tense in the paragraph before. That means I'm writing this week's post pre-7:00 a.m. on a Wednesday morning unlike my usual Tuesday night routine. I'm not a morning person, and after 48 yrs of being wired to nighttime, I suspect that is never going to change. Nonetheless, I crashed early last night but was able to sleep knowing I would be getting up early with my son.

Yes, an unwritten blog post would mess up my sleep. I'm a geek.

I only now noticed that I still am wearing my big green raincoat -- mornings truly are rough for me. I hope I'm wearing pants.

Yup, all good.

The rushing out the door but forgetting your pants reference was once a popular convention in comics and movies, but I don't know anyone who has actually forgotten to put on pants. I do know students who have rushed out the door forgetting their backpacks, however, and while not so dramatic, nonetheless almost as important. Today, however, for this first day at a new school building for sixth grade, my son was out the door on time with all necessary apparel and school accessories.

So here I am, early in the morning, tapping on the keys, drinking my coffee, listening to the wind and the sound of tires on wet roads, wearing a raincoat, safe should the ceiling suddenly spring a leak, and reflecting on how sixth grade is the entrance to the revolving door of teenagerdom. The spinning has begun.

I have a son who turns 22 next week, so I should be comfortable with how fast time spins, but it is catching me off guard, nonetheless.

Recognizable yet slightly off.


Photograph courtesy of Phil Pekarcik, who is always recognizable and always slightly off.