Once upon a time, there was a really old man who lived near the beach. He didn't really have anything to do with his time during the days, so he decided that he would take up a hobby. What would the old man do? He couldn't draw or even paint very well. His singing left much to be desired. He tried his hand at interior design, but quit after all of his clients questioned his affinity for lavenders and pinks.
Then one day, the old man woke up and saw wood. He had an epiphany! He would become a hobbyist carpenter and spread peace and goodwill on the beach by sharing his love of all things wood. He tried his hand at making bowls - that didn't quite fulfill him. He then moved to battery covers for old radios. That was exciting for him and multitudes of people lavished praise upon him, but he still didn't have his pièce de résistance. The old man was sad as he climbed aboard his golf cart to drive around his neighborhood. He thought the cool sea breeze would inspire him. But the only thing he got from the trip was a sore butt.
Looking at his golf cart, he then had the idea of all ideas! He would build a wooden golf cart! Plastic is way too brittle and doesn't absorb impacts as well as wood, he thought. So, the old man started planning and building and after 40 days and 40 nights, the clouds of sawdust broke and he stood there in awe of his handywork. It was finished. It was beautiful. It was alive! The old man saw that it was good and he named it Woodie.
As the days passed, more and more people grew intrigued with the old man. What else could he make out of wood? The neighbors wanted to know. They began leaving short notes and suggestions in his mailbox and on his front door. However, the old man only watched the hustle and bustle through his genuine brass porthole. He wasn't interested in anything else now. He had a new love in his life - his Woodie.
After a while, the beautiful wood stain began to fade as the salty sea air took its toll on Woodie. The old man had another idea. He would combine his love of lavender and wood and decided to give Woodie a new look.
The old man was proud of his Woodie.
Later that evening, the old man's son came in from a day of great surfing and admired his dad's big, purple Woodie and was very impressed. Being a member of the younger generation, the son had a few suggestions for the old man and after some careful consideration, the old man began implementing all of his son's ideas. He would go on to purchase chrome rims with low-profile tires, a chrome grille, chrome side mirrors, fuzzy dice, and to make the seat even more comfortable, he had it upholstered in plush, purple shag. For the final touch, he added a German plate to the front to give it a sporty, European flair.
As you can imagine, the neighbors went wild! Each one wanted to ride the old man's Woodie and most times the old man obliged. He noticed too that his Woodie began attracting some of the younger and more beautiful ladies that he had often daydreamed about while he watched them through his genuine brass porthole.
He was truly living the good life now and he owed it all to his big, purple Woodie. And he rarely had to worry about cleaning his Woodie as most people would stop at the old man's trailer and give his Woodie a quick spit-shine if they saw a small spot on it. Some of the young ladies volunteered their precious time to lather up the Woodie and then polish it off.
As you can imagine, some of the men in the neighborhood began harboring animosity towards the old man. They would often make fun of his old age. Some even went so far as to claim that the old man secretly married his bus-driving lover from Houston while vacationing in Bora Bora (although none could prove it as no photographic evidence ever appeared). All of the taunting and name-calling only made the old man more resolute in displaying his Woodie for everyone to admire.
But one day... the most vile and unthinkable act was perpetrated against Woodie. The old man awoke one morning and walked outside to stroke his Woodie and found that it had been vandalized! Who could do such a thing, he pondered. All the time and effort into making his Woodie a sight to behold was now gone with the wind and left him feeling a little limp.
From that day forward, he always referred to it as Something Too Drastic to talk about. He mourned the loss of his Woodie for days. The old man never found out who gave him that "STD" and he probably never will.
Then one day, the old man woke up and saw wood. He had an epiphany! He would become a hobbyist carpenter and spread peace and goodwill on the beach by sharing his love of all things wood. He tried his hand at making bowls - that didn't quite fulfill him. He then moved to battery covers for old radios. That was exciting for him and multitudes of people lavished praise upon him, but he still didn't have his pièce de résistance. The old man was sad as he climbed aboard his golf cart to drive around his neighborhood. He thought the cool sea breeze would inspire him. But the only thing he got from the trip was a sore butt.
Looking at his golf cart, he then had the idea of all ideas! He would build a wooden golf cart! Plastic is way too brittle and doesn't absorb impacts as well as wood, he thought. So, the old man started planning and building and after 40 days and 40 nights, the clouds of sawdust broke and he stood there in awe of his handywork. It was finished. It was beautiful. It was alive! The old man saw that it was good and he named it Woodie.
As the days passed, more and more people grew intrigued with the old man. What else could he make out of wood? The neighbors wanted to know. They began leaving short notes and suggestions in his mailbox and on his front door. However, the old man only watched the hustle and bustle through his genuine brass porthole. He wasn't interested in anything else now. He had a new love in his life - his Woodie.
After a while, the beautiful wood stain began to fade as the salty sea air took its toll on Woodie. The old man had another idea. He would combine his love of lavender and wood and decided to give Woodie a new look.
The old man was proud of his Woodie.
Later that evening, the old man's son came in from a day of great surfing and admired his dad's big, purple Woodie and was very impressed. Being a member of the younger generation, the son had a few suggestions for the old man and after some careful consideration, the old man began implementing all of his son's ideas. He would go on to purchase chrome rims with low-profile tires, a chrome grille, chrome side mirrors, fuzzy dice, and to make the seat even more comfortable, he had it upholstered in plush, purple shag. For the final touch, he added a German plate to the front to give it a sporty, European flair.
As you can imagine, the neighbors went wild! Each one wanted to ride the old man's Woodie and most times the old man obliged. He noticed too that his Woodie began attracting some of the younger and more beautiful ladies that he had often daydreamed about while he watched them through his genuine brass porthole.
He was truly living the good life now and he owed it all to his big, purple Woodie. And he rarely had to worry about cleaning his Woodie as most people would stop at the old man's trailer and give his Woodie a quick spit-shine if they saw a small spot on it. Some of the young ladies volunteered their precious time to lather up the Woodie and then polish it off.
As you can imagine, some of the men in the neighborhood began harboring animosity towards the old man. They would often make fun of his old age. Some even went so far as to claim that the old man secretly married his bus-driving lover from Houston while vacationing in Bora Bora (although none could prove it as no photographic evidence ever appeared). All of the taunting and name-calling only made the old man more resolute in displaying his Woodie for everyone to admire.
But one day... the most vile and unthinkable act was perpetrated against Woodie. The old man awoke one morning and walked outside to stroke his Woodie and found that it had been vandalized! Who could do such a thing, he pondered. All the time and effort into making his Woodie a sight to behold was now gone with the wind and left him feeling a little limp.
From that day forward, he always referred to it as Something Too Drastic to talk about. He mourned the loss of his Woodie for days. The old man never found out who gave him that "STD" and he probably never will.