The Case of the 20 Year Old Sticky Lumps

So, maybe 15 years ago, prolly closer to 17, Tommy took a summer job at a surfboard shop near his childhood home in Sandy Eggo.  At the time, Tommy was all about collecting stuff. He had a few wetsuits, a bunch of leashes, a few cruddy old boards, a truck, a car, a motorcycle and a very good looking beard.  Did I mention the afro?  Anyhow, so there he was working at that shop collecting stuff. Or beginning to collect stuff, because maybe it was within a couple years he had all that shit in one place, namely that little yellow house on the hill in Summerland.  Or maybe it was at the Ranch?  I don't remember, honestly.  But at this point Tommy thought it would be a great idea to buy a couple of cases (cases) of Sticky Bumps.  Then he stuck the gooey loot in a closet in his parent's house in Sandy Eggo and left it there.  Or, more likely, he carried around the boxes full of the junk to the 20 or so odd different domiciles he would inhabit over the next ten years.  That's probably more like it.  I can't be sure.  Or I could be, but I choose not to be.  Anyhow, getting back to it, a handful of months ago Tommy handed over a handful of these old bars of Sticky Bumps, you know the ones with the scary ghoul guy on the package? Yeah.  And I'm all "holy cow! where'd you find this old stuff?"  and he reminds me of all that old crud he used to have and that he still had this military grade cabinet chest thing full of old wax and that I was welcome to it any time.  So this morning, waxless and worried, I find some of those old bars in the boot of my car. Ever try to wax your board in 2011 with 1996 sticky bumps?  Rub the heck out of it on the pavement to get at the golden nugget of goodness within the hard candy shell.