1993 – Euro Premier

(maker Firan)
38’ – Diesel pusher
Approx 230,000 miles
9-10 MPG (pulling a trailer)
Purchased in Florida…stored in our barn

Cummins Engine
Allison Transmission
Spartan Chassis
7.5 kw Onan Generator

20’ Main Manual Awning
3 manual window awnings

This RV has served my family well for 17 years. We have criss-crossed the country from coast to coast, over-nighted in 296 unique Wal-Mart parking lots…with eight children. It’s filled with lots of memories and is ready for you to add some more.

Seatbelts for 12

All appliances work
2 (roof a/c…runs with Genset)
Water heater…Gas
Fridge/freezer – Gas and Electric
Gen Set 7.5 KW runs great and steady. Only uses about a gallon an hour when running both A/C units.
Manual valve for black and gray tanks (easy and simple).
Pioneer radio with a big subwoofer speaker.
Plenty of basement storage.
The water tank is large.
The windshield has been recently replaced.
Radiators have been replaced (I ran over a mattress).
The front tires are new, and the back tires are good.
Recently painted.
Does not burn oil.

This RV runs  & purrs like a panther. It’s not perfect, but it can be the perfect RV for your family.

Price: $25,000.

Get a VIDEO TOUR

Contact me for more information.

Hey Dad,

It’s been a good week in the dad department, but not because I’ve been a good dad or anything. Actually, the opposite is true. It’s because I’m not a good dad that I feel good…because I’m in good company with team bad-dad.

It started last week when I got an email from a dad with adult children. He was beating himself up over his child’s choices who was not doing life like he envisioned. At the end of the email, he asked, “How do you not beat yourself up over the things you should have done differently…or feel responsible for the outcome of an adult child?”

A day later I had lunch with a good friend. We were chatting and catching up when towards the end of the conversation, he sighed, slumped his shoulders, and said, “I’m a bad dad.”

I couldn’t help but smile knowing he felt exactly like the dad who had emailed me the day before…and what all of us dads feel so often.

But here’s the truth: my friend is a good dad and so is the dad who emailed me his situation. They are both good dads who aren’t perfect, who make mistakes, & who blow it from time to time. That’s normal and that’s OK. God could have made us perfect, without flaws, and unaffected by the baggage we all carry…but He didn’t…because it’s not best and then we wouldn’t need Him. And you should be OK with that, Dad.

You are part of a team of bad-dads who are also good dads. We love our children. We want what’s best for them. We want them to walk with God and love us & Him. AND we know God is bigger than us & our mistakes and can get our children exactly where He wants them to be—even with our bad-dadness. And for that, I am grateful and can relax and don’t have to get stuck in the mire of “I should have done this better.”

So Dad, maybe you’re feeling like a bad-dad. Accept it, embrace it, and keep showing up for duty. Keep loving, keep leading, keep asking forgiveness, and keep seeking God’s wisdom.

Thanks for being on team bad-dad…and thanks for making me smile.
You’re the best!

I’m ‘da Bad-dad, 

Todd

It was Labor day. The day farthest from the beginning of summer. It heralds the first of fall and the beginning of school, while thumbing its nose at those who love warm weather.

We spent the day over at the lake with most of my family. It was gray, cold, and windy… pretty standard lake weather. Mostly we stayed inside, which kind of gets crazy with a bunch of kids running underfoot. So after about as much total mayhem as we could stand, everyone, loaded up their cars and headed in different directions to return to their busy lives and life after labor day.
We had it easy. We drove ten miles home and plopped the kids in their beds for naps. While they slept, Debbie and I sat on the couch discussing ideas for our last night of summer fun. We figured most everything would be closed and resolved ourselves to an uneventful night at home.

It was at that moment, when all seemed bleakest, that an idea came to mind, and the brilliant idea poured forth from my mouth, “How ‘bout Adventureland?” It sounded like a winner to two people desperate to extend the summer. I jumped up, grabbed the phone, and called to see if they were opened.

On the other end of the line, a lady said, in some accent, I didn’t recognize, “We open to ten o’clock.”
Energized by the prospects, we dressed the kids, threw some fish sticks in the microwave for our finicky eaters, and made our way to Taco Bell for a quick dinner before we tackled Adventureland.
I should explain to the reader that Adventureland is an American icon of entertainment. As a boy, we traveled passed it each year on our way to the lake for our vacation. Lustfully, we stared out the window at the miniature golf course, the giant slide, and some rusted rides scattered about knowing we’d visit her sometime during our stay.

It eventually came, and it was usually the coolest night of vacation. We’d throw on jeans and sweatshirts over our freshly sunburned bodies and pile into several cars for the short trip to the park. Twenty minutes later our caravan pulled into the parking lot, and Dad, a few moms, cousins, brothers, and sisters would pour out of the cars, soak themselves down with bug spray, and walk the path to the main building. It was like entering a sacred shrine filled with more than the mind could imagine or the heart could desire.

From behind a tall counter lined with golf clubs, a little old man or lady took our money and handed us a small putter and a ball of our choice and color. Usually, we argued and fought for a special color and eventually worked out a compromise to every player’s liking. With that behind us, we stepped from the brightly colored building and began our 18-hole adventure.

Now, Adventureland golf was a far cry from those putt-putt courses with nicely manicured Astroturf greens, bright orange perimeters, and meticulously maintained sterile play areas. It was more like playing golf in a storybook. There was a giant gorilla on hole two, a tiger poised to pounce on hole seven, carousels and paddle boats, closing doors and mysterious holes that took your colored golf ball to who knows where. Not to mention water traps and sand traps that would make Tiger Woods break out in a sweat, but we were young and naive and laughed in the face of danger.

As if it could get any more wonderful, blue and red lights flooded the course, adding to the mystery and enchantment of the night, while tiny fountains danced in the light and laughter.
It was a place where dreams came true, and it was like a friend of the family.
Over the years Adventureland aged along with those who challenged it. The gorilla leaned to one side, and a cage was added that kept it from toppling over and squashing some young towheaded golfer.

The once proud tiger was demoted to a token spot where he kept an eye on the giggling kids and their parents. One by one the doors quit moving, the water traps were drained, and the sand traps that held pristine white sand now looked more like dirty ashtrays filled with leaves and candy wrappers. But even in her decline and evident wear, she was still the queen of miniature golf parks.

Even when a new adventure place opened across the street offering all kinds of new fangled attractions, we insisted on spending the evening at our favorite place. We were loyal to her. After all, she was family. We grew up there, and she was ours.

That brings us to last night. With Taco Bell heavy on our breath, we pulled into the parking lot and were shocked to find our van the sole occupant. A cold, northern wind that smelled of autumn filled the air, and we decided to forgo the bug spray. Walking up the broken sidewalk, we passed a graveyard of old rusted rides that once terrorized young riders who grew up to have children of their own. The batting cage that was near the main road was banished to the back lot to sit out its remaining days in rust and decay. From somewhere, I thought I heard “Taps” being played.
I guess someone saw us approach the main ticket building and got all excited because halfway there, the power flipped on, granting life to the arcade games and an ancient skee ball game that cousin Erin lost a small fortune playing.

The once shiny temple of amusements felt old, dirty, and most of all good. Strolling through the building, we went on to the playground that was added about eight years ago to give little kids something to do while their bigger counterparts spent their money on batting machines that could have pitched to Joe Dimaggio, had he ever come to Adventureland as a kid, which he probably didn’t.

At the playground, a teenager, wearing a skull on the back of his black T-shirt, came out to sit, watch, and leap into action just in case we wanted to ride the little train that made its fifty-foot journey around the dirty playground. After inquiring, he informed us that it cost $1.50 per kid to ride. I, being my father’s son, stated rather loudly that I’d never spend $4.50 to have my kids ride something that would last the whole of 20 seconds. So we gathered them up and made our way to the little metal building that housed an air hockey table, a pool table, and some old electronic shooting games that used lights instead of lasers.

The building also served as the entrance to the trampoline area where a dozen trampolines waited to be ‘trampolined’ for a significant fee. As kids, we jumped and bounced until we collapsed or our fifteen-minute limit came to an end.

When we walked into the building, it was ghostly silent. The fluorescent lights flickered in the empty building. It was like going home to find that your house was condemned and vacant. Sadly, I lead my family back to the miniature golf counter and purchased two tickets for Ben and Sam.

The kids chose their clubs and colored golf balls (they were too young to know the real advantage of having a red ball over a green ball), and then we stepped out onto the course.

The sun had dropped below the tree line, and the red and green lights cast a faint glow over the course. There was still some magic in the old girl, and I was transported back twenty years. I half expected to hear one of my brothers run up from behind and cry out, “I wanted the red ball.” But instead, giggles of excitement bubbled up from two little boys as they ran to the first hole.

Over the next hour, we made our way up, over, and around all 18 holes, my boys excited about each one, exclaiming and explaining each hole to us as though I wasn’t already intimately acquainted with each. They pointed to the tall gorilla that was missing most of its hands and once snarling teeth as it rested against the building near hole two. They oohed at the carousel that rotated as their ball crossed its floor. They peeked in the paddle boat’s paint-chipped door and stepped through the dry water traps that I splashed in when I was their age.

I relived each hole they played, remembering the times and the people of long ago. But as they played, my attention left the putting greens and old memories. Something else had captured my attention. It was two small boys running from hole to hole, their faces beaming, and a little girl who had her head resting on the shoulder of the woman I love. And it was then that I felt it… that feeling of warmth that is kindled when you realize that you’re in a special place.

Parents need a place like that. A place to revisit from time to time with the people you just can’t live without.

Apparently the story is based on the book “By the Great Hornspoon” which my kids said I read to them. I have no recollection of the story…although I do remember the title.

The story is about a boy and a butler who head to the goldfields in California to make their fortune. They do…in a series of ridiculous adventures. 

Anyway, this is the first time I saw it and it was “Classic 1960’s Disney.” It could have starred Dean Jones, Tim Conway, or Fred MacMurray . It surely has a G rating…and makes for a fun family movie. If you’re at all familiar with 1960’s TV you’ll see a cast of characters that you’ll know…from Mayor Stoner and Old Jud in the Andy Griffith Show to other background actors who have dozens of appearances to their credit.

The Fight between Bullwhip and Mountain Ox is delightfully, innocent, and hilarious. The tone of the movie makes me wish our movie tastes have not been so skewed by big budget movie blockbuster thrillers. the pace is slow, the humour obvious, and the story is wholesome..

I  give The Adventures of Bullwhip Griffin it the Familyman’s Seal of Approval for a clean fun, family film that I’m sure to watch again.

Fun facts – 

Rodney McDowall is the star Monkey in the original Planet of the Apes.

Suzanne Pleshette was a Disney star and went to play the wife of Bob Newhart in the 70’s TV hit The Bob Newhart Show.

Mike Mazurki (Mountain OX) graduated from Fordham Law School and became an attorney. He later said he took up professional wrestling because he could earn around ten times what he could as a lawyer. Mazurki was also a professional football and basketball player.

You if you leave your Christmas gift all up to your wife and children, you’re doomed to get a Ronco Glass Cutter or a goofy Dad-shirt. To help you out, we’ve created this HINT that you can causally leave for someone to discover. I’m just sayin.’

Click to print the hint

We’ve been home from our south Speaking tour for just over a week. We left Florida and it’s been rainy and cold ever since. But I’ve still been basking in the memory of vacation and uninterrupted family time (but it’s growing fainter by the second).

While away I made a mental note of something I saw to share with you when I got back home. It was sad to me…but something I see played out too often.

It happened one evening as the sun was setting and the lampposts were just beginning to glow. I was with Jed (10) and Cal (12) doing the dad/son thing when I found myself outside a gift shop waiting for my boys to join me.

As I stood drinking in all the good feeling I noticed two little girls playing on the sidewalk enjoying the freedom to stretch and run. They were giggling and playing tag. That’s when I noticed their parents, a tired mom and dad sitting on a log bench, their faces buried in their phones.

As I watched them I saw one of the girls twirl around like Cinderella at the ball wearing a huge smile on her face. It was quick and the second she stopped her dad looked up. The twirl was over, and he missed it.

That’s the thing about smart phones, they’ve distracted us from the twirling moments. Those unannounced, unplanned, spontaneous moments of pure joy and silliness that parents used to watch as their children cried, “Watch me, Dad.”

I half wonder as I write this if children have stopped saying, “Watch me, Dad” because they know their dad is on his phone and deaf to their calls.

Dad, I’m telling you when you’re with your children, put your phone down or get rid of it because you’re missing the twirling moments. They’re brief and pass like an unexpected breeze on a Summer night…and then they vanish.

Make sure you don’t miss a single one, Dad. They’re too precious and shouldn’t be exchanged for a You Tube video about a shark.

You ‘da dad,

They love the family time and the quiet darkness as we talk about Jesus and read a story together. In fact, we couldn’t quit if we wanted to, they wouldn’t let us.

*For our non-liturgical audience, let me give you a quick synopsis of what an advent night is. Advent is the Latin word for “coming.” So, during advent, we celebrate or anticipate his “coming.” You with me?

Traditionally there is a wreath with five candles, four on the outside and one in the middle. A purist will tell you each candle has a specific color and name. At our house we’re lucky to find five candles that aren’t broken, so we use almost any color (although my wife made me put away the four orange candles tonight – too pumpkiny).

The Candles

About the only part that we really stick to is the last candle which we light on Christmas eve. It is the Christ candle and is pure white. The other candles we kind of wing, but here is the order we’ve kind of stuck to:

• Week 1 – Prophecy candle (Isaiah 9:1-7)
• Week 2 – Bethlehem candle (Luke 1:1-56)
• Week 3 – Angel candle (Micah 5:2 & Luke 2:2-5)
• Week 4 – Shepherd candle ( Luke 2:8-20)
• Christmas Eve – Christ candle (John 1:1-18)

A different candle is lit each week along with the previous ones. The anticipation builds from week to week. Advent is usually on Sunday, but Sundays are busy nights for us so we pick a night during the week. This year it is Tuesday night. Some years we jump around…Monday, Friday….Thursday…

The Craft

First thing we do is have a family craft. I know what you’re thinking, “I’m not the craft kind of guy.” That’s OK, see if your wife will plan a few simple crafts for the month – emphasis on simple, but you have to participate. It won’t kill you.

We pick a really easy one for the first night just to get our feet wet (see craft ideas).

After we finish with the craft, we go out by the Christmas tree, and we light the candle.  Ususally my kids fight over who gets to light this week’s candle, who lit last year’s candles, and who will light the next candle. I pick a kid, he lights it, and I read the portion of Scripture that goes with the candle (see above). The temptation is to get too deep. Don’t. Keep it simple and short. Trust me on this one.

The Story

Next I read a story from The Familyman’s Christmas Treasury. It’s just long enough for the older kids, but not too long where we have to strap the younger ones to a chair. Each story is enchanting, doesn’t confuse myth with truth (no baby angels here), and points to the Savior.

The Snack

Usually, while I’m reading my wife sneaks into the kitchen to get the snacks ready. The snack can be anything as long as it’s special. Oh, yeah and it has to include sparkling grape juice. Our kids look forward to the drink all year. This year the snack flopped, fortunately Debbie had some back-up mint cookies for just an emergency. The kids thought it was great.

After that, we pray, and we’re done.

Dads, let me stress again the value of a family advent night. Besides being a wonderful teaching time, it is also incredible family time, and I guarantee that your kids will love them as much as our kids do.

In fact you’ll love them so much that you might even try to incorporate a family devotional night during the regular year. Wouldn’t that be something?

OK, now sit down with your wife and plan out your first advent night. Good luck.