The Fortnight Before Christmas
© Colin P. Cobb
(with heartfelt apologies to Clement C. Moore)
'Twas 7 of the AM on a brisk December morn...
I was up and about and not even feelin' forlorn.
The temp when 'Poleon and me headed out on his stroll
Was 28 degrees Farenheffer, and man, tha's col'.
'Twas a fortnight before Christmas, and all through the garager
Not a gearhead was stirring, not even a surly ol' codger;
The ratchets and tools were hung with confidence and care
In hopes that Tigger's brakes were fixed to a fair!
At 8, with the pup locked away, I told Mamma in her kerchief,
"Tigger's fixed! That is my belief!"
"And I believe you!" she cried with fire in her eye,
"But 'tis 40 degrees... shouldn't we put up a top 'fore we go bye-bye?"
"Top! Schmop!
We don't need no stinkin' top!
Being late to church is something you hate
And if we hesitate for tops, that surely is our fate."
"Alright! Alright!" Janet said with a natter
"But you better grab yourself a hatter
Two,
Foo'..."
She ran up the door with an awful clatter
Leaving my eardrums all in a tatter.
And there Tigger the Topdown-Tiger sat
No orange stripes, just a sleek ... black ... cat.
Tigger had been sickly for months, wasn't it last June when his brake had
seized?
Take it from me, that long Tigerless will not leave you pleased!
But I had troubles galore!
Troubles to make me pretty danged sore!
Troubs finding parts!
Troubs getting parts!
And when the parts did not work...
I pret' near went berserk!
Then when I put things together again, when the brakes I finally did bleed,
I was the happiest motorhead you ever seed!
Least, I was happy for a bit, happy 'til I torqued the danged lugnuts to 60
pounds
And bolt number 4 busted bigger 'n a politician's promise, the dirty sons o'
hounds!
You cannot change a Tiger's lug bolt unless you pull the danged hub
And that is not the easiest task for a tired ol' tub...
Still, I struggled and twisted and turned and sawed and thunk
'Til finally I got the job done and ended my "blue funk."
Oh, sure, the brakes are still boosterless
And that means my luck I must press
But my right leg's pretty danged strong
And, if needed, the left one will follow along.
So I jumped to my seat
In half a heart beat!
So lively and quick,
I heard the fuel pump tickety-tick!
I twisted the key
To see what we could see.
"Now Holley do your stuff!
And please! Don't run rough!"
"Now cylinder One! now Two! Fire Three and Four!
On Five and on Six! On Seven and Eight! Then we'll head out the door!
Let's hear your rumbly old call!
Fireaway! Fireaway! Fireaway all!"
And just as I bid,
Fire he did!
Soon, down the road we rolled,
Movin' too fast to notice the cold.
Or so, in my glee, it seemed to me
Though not so happy, Janet seemed to be...
"Hold your fingers to the firewall," I shouted.
And the back o' my head she clouted.
Once we made it to the church house
Some sympathy I found, though not from my spouse.
Preacher's sermon was long by a bit
So in the warmth we got to sit.
By the time services were done, the Farenheffer was near 50
Which I thought was pretty darned nifty.
So the top stayed down
Whilst we headed 'cross town.
And on the way
We had a tiny delay...
Punishment gluttons that we are,
We stopped to wash Ol' Tigger-car.
"Better our fingers freeze and our joints all rust
Than that we drive a Tiger all covered in dust,"
I opined rather grandily
As Janet struck me quite handily...
For a change Janet and I were on the early side
And already waitin' at Gadsden's when the rest of the turistas arrived
For our cruise down the valley where at Sevaro's we'd eat
Before heading on for shopping at the Nutcracker Suite.
All day the sun did shine!
And, for the most part, we all felt fine
As we cruised along the road havin' fun
'Til the day was done.
By the time we got home
So's I could start this silly poem,
We'd driven 90 miles
Practically wreathed in smiles!
Finally, back from town
I pulled in the garage and shut the engine down.
Tigger crouched without a word
As this curmudeonly gearhead stirred...
I climbed from behind the wheel,
Patted Tigger's living steel,
And ran the door down it's track
As I had a thought for the rest of the British Car Pack...
May your brakes never lock up and leave you in pain!
Nor your lug bolt stretch ... snap ... and break in twain!
Instread, may the New Year bring you the Joy I feel tonight!
Happy Christmas to all! And to all a good night!
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