with the guy I grew up. At home, he always stood at the door. Solid expression of the economic miracle, hard worker, a symbol of the hippie era, accommodation for many vacations. He transported drums and bass cabinets, the furniture of entire student digs, ten-member group of children, served as a second home and playground. Later I had Hartmut and then your own. He carried the scent of freedom and adventure. He made our moves and we with it, our short breaks and holidays. Family car and a piece of home wherever we were. This is not just a car. This is a friend. When he became ill and we had to deliver him into care, the grief was great.
One day we want to have one and back to our old days again ... losbrettern Anyway: Happy birthday, Bulli!
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