I want a van. I feel like I’ve always wanted a van. And not some lame ass soccer mom mini van. Calling such a contraption a van should be illegal. I’m talking a cargo van with the back seat pulled out to make room for gear. I think it’s the almost-rcok star in me that loves the 4 wheel road asphalt camels with covered windows.

I’m fascinated by RVs and always hesitate when I get one of those four color brochures in the mail. I can just see myself tooling around in a motorhome, a guitar in the back with a couple bags of beef jerky, a jug of cheap red, and a notebook or two.

Of course, someone else can take care of emptying the chemical toilet tank.

Rock and roll, baby.