Tearing Up Ventura Blvd in my Volvo Station Wagon!

The Volvo (Above). Notice the dirt on the sides
and the curious lack of fancy rims.

Having four kids makes it a pretty sure probability that I'm going to be hitting the mean streets of Hollywood in an uncool vehicle. My wife drives the mini-van and I have the Volvo station wagon.

Nothing like rolling up to one our sets, pulling in next to an Escalade and popping out of that clown-car known as the Volvo. Nothing screams, "He's the head dude, the one that must be feared" like a dirty station wagon full of empty diet soda cans.

I love my kids in terms that can't be described, but they are the messiest four boys in the entire San Fernando Valley. The baby seat has a permanent crust of... something... that is a combination of goo and fungus. Not one McDonald's toy has ever actually made it inside my house and are all shoved under the seats. Despite the fact that it never gets below 60 degrees in this part of the country, there are two mismatched gloves and a scarf on the floor.

The mysterious bag of concrete that showed up
in the back of the Volvo one day and never left.

And about 2 1/2 years ago, I bought a bag of concrete that I still haven't gotten out of the back. I think it hardened because now I can't seem to move it.