Diver:  Joey from Velorution Cycles
Interesting facts: Joey’s mom doesn’t write love letters to the Telegraph because she wants the Wildcat to continue believing he’s special

Dear Diver,
The ice cream man in my neighborhood always plays “When the Saints Go Marching In.” What does that have to do with ice cream? Shouldn’t they play something more appropriate, like “Ice Cream Man” by Van Halen? Or is it a covert attempt to convert our children?
– Sweet Tooth
Dear Sweetie,
We must live in the same neighborhood, as the ice cream man here plays the same repetitive song.  I’ve been plotting ways to hijack him, though. On one hand, I could just jump on the van and tear the megaphone off the top. Ah, blessed silence. On the other hand, I could sneak inside and figure out a way to play something much more fitting … say, “Get Out Of My Dreams, Get Into My Car,” by Billy Ocean. Ah, blessed irony. The kids probably wouldn’t get it, though, and it would be just as annoying after a while. Maybe the best thing to do is just to buy ice cream from the new ice-cream-trike folks on the bike path – best ice cream in town, and they don’t play any stupid songs! It’s win-win, and the only potential conversion to fear is to ice cream snobbery – a good thing in my book.
– Don’t talk to strangers in vans, the Diver

Dear Diver,
I keep seeing a “foam party” advertised in the calendar at a local bar. What sorts of things go on at a foam party? Is it good clean fun?
– Sudsy

Dear Suds,
I have no idea what a “foam party” is.  But I’d bet that “foam party” is shorthand for “phone home party.” A savvy bar owner in a town like Durango understands that most people are here because they like it better than wherever they came from. So when we call back home, only to hear about Aunt Erma’s ear infection, JimBob’s cow-tipping feud, and how we really need to move back to Kentucky, our reaction is to look for the nearest open container of alcohol. This is where that savvy bar owner comes in, offering reasonably priced anesthesia for our familial woes. Get a whole bunch of people calling back home at once, and you’re bound to sell a lot of booze. Hence, the “foam party” – nothing more than a way to sell more beer.
– There’s no way I’m off base on this one, the Diver

Dear Diver,
Who is the Diver’s choice for the best small-person actor of ’80s sitcoms? I think, hands down, it was Tattoo from “Fantasy Island,” but my friend thinks it was Gary Coleman. Of course, Webster is another small actor who made a big impact. Who does the diver think was king of the molehill on ’80s TV?
– Couch Potato

Dear Couchy,
Your Diver wants to know who the hell let this question get through the approval process. I’ve never owned a TV, and even if I had, I wasn’t old enough in the 1980s to remember any lame TV actors from the era. In fact, what little I can remember from the 1980s I’d prefer to forget – even as a child, the culture of the time seemed excessive, poor in both taste and style. Just listen to some of the music from that time – or, rather, don’t. Unfortunately, in response to your question:  “Whatchu talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?”
– Get outside a little more often, the Diver