In a small, dark garage in a big, busy city in Southern California sat a lonely, young hippie bus named Benjamin. He was unlike any other vehicle on the road. Benji was a rare breed – a sea blue and white, 1966 21-Window Volkswagen Type 2 Microbus, who was revered for his stunning good looks and his aura of nostalgia for a much simpler and kindhearted time. Despite being told how special he was, Benjamin was heartbroken that he didn’t get taken out of his garage more often. His family was working hard to pay bills and just didn’t have a lot of free time to take him out on rides. Poor Benji dreamed of days spent cruising along the scenic Pacific Coast Highway in the summer months with his ragtop down. People honked, stared, and flipped him peace signs with sheer fascination. Children dropped their beach toys and gazed in wonder. Benjamin was his own phenomenon.

       With his sublime VW smile, Benji transported people back to an earlier time of spiritual awakening, the Age of Aquarius. During this period of the 1960s, the belief in Peace and Love was supreme, the dominating force in Haight-Ashbury, Berkeley, Laurel Canyon, Greenwich Village, and Woodstock.

       It was already the middle of the summer, and Benjamin sat restless under his protective covering, locked up in his garage. It felt like he had been parked there for an eternity. Hope was a distant memory, strangulated in time. He felt sadder than a vehicle broken down and stranded on the side of the road; more lonesome than a vehicle abandoned and left to rust in the bushes; and more isolated than a vehicle wandering aimlessly on a deserted road in the most barren of places. “Alone Again” by Love played softly on his dashboard radio. Tears drenched his windshield and streamed down his headlights. He longed to be out on the road, making people smile.

       Benjamin started up his engine and sent up a prayer of smoke for the chance to get out for a short ride. Miraculously, a short hour later, his prayers were answered. His family opened up the garage to get some tools, buzzing with excitement about going away for the weekend. In that moment, Benji whispered to himself, “That’s it, man! Far out! . . .  While they are away, I will break out of this garage and go on a road trip along my favorite stretch of Pacific Coast Highway. No one will ever know! I have the code to deactivate the alarm and the garage door opener is under my dashboard. After they’re gone, I’ll check to make sure the neighbors aren’t around to see me leave and I’ll head out. Groovy!”

       Benjamin thought over his plan some more with trepidation and hesitation. “Oh Dude, I’ve never done this before. This is not like me. I don’t know about this, man! What if I get caught?” he whispered shamefully. “I’ve always been such a sweet and obedient bus, but I just don’t feel like myself these days. Dig it! I feel so constricted and boxed in. . . . I need to be out on the open road!” Benji cried.

       Happiness for Benjamin was not unlike the joy a young bird feels being let out of his cage for the first time. Pulling back his ragtop and revving up his engine produced pure exuberance.  Nothing could compare to the wind holding him tight, never letting go, in a warm and loving embrace. He was high in flight, like an ancient redwood sweeping the clouds, a feathered warrior on a mystical voyage. How could it be wrong to satisfy this craving for wanderlust?

       When the weekend came, Benjamin impatiently waited for his family to leave. Then, carefully, he raised the garage door, made sure the neighbors were out of sight, and slowly backed into the street. The exhaust from his engine was lost in the freshness of the mid-morning sky. His fan belt was met with the sweet aroma of magnolia and gardenia from the neighbor’s garden. The sky was so clear and alive that it seemed like the sun had rounded up the clouds and corralled them to some secret dwelling. In that moment, the heart of Benji’s engine was a beautiful lotus flower,

unfolding to the sky, determined to burst out of dark, murky water.

       With the sun smiling at him, Benjamin drove on towards the beach using his heart to guide the way. As soon as he pulled onto the main boulevard, children waved and adults “peaced” him. Everywhere he looked, people appeared mesmerized, looking and pointing in amazement. Benji felt better immediately, but something was still missing. Passengers! He craved having people in his bus and scanned the street. However, he remembered what his family had told him. “Young Benjamin, never pick up hitchhikers. They might carjack you and we would never see you again!”

       All of a sudden, Benjamin recalled a vivid dream he recently had. In the dream, he was told that because he was pure peace and love, he was of a very high spiritual vibration. This enabled him to see beyond the veil, into other dimensions, where he could see beings of light among the regular people on the street. These beings of light were also of pure peace and love like him and safe to pick up. Because Benji always trusted his intuition, he felt the dream was a message to him. His excitement grew at the thought of seeing a being of light.

       Benjamin drove and drove through the city and soon the California Incline beckoned him down to Pacific Coast Highway. Excitedly, he saw a breathtaking view of the Santa Monica Mountains wrapping around the Pacific Ocean. Tall palm trees lined PCH. Wild yellow mustard and goldenrod emerged from the canyon, inching their way up to the side of the road. Pink and magenta bursts of bougainvillea flowed colorfully down gates and walls of businesses and properties, seeming to escape and join the celebratory vibe along PCH. It was a glorious day at the beach.

       Heads turned as Benjamin cruised through Santa Monica and the Palisades. The intoxicating sounds of the Doors, Crosby Stills & Nash, Jefferson Airplane, and Jimi Hendrix blared out of his ragtop and escaped in the breeze from his pop-out, safari windshield. He was so thrilled to put smiles on so many people’s faces. Grace Slick crooned the opening bars of “White Rabbit” and he tooted his steering wheel horn with utter delight. Benji’s presence was infectious, and all around him, people radiated joy.