ROADSTER PO's LAMENT
Go ahead, blame it on me; everybody else does.
Everything from Brillo pads stuffed in the rust holes,
To epoxy on a cracked block.
>From Bondo an inch thick,
To a Fiat engine swap.
Threads stripped on the aluminum head,
Metric nuts forced onto SAE bolts,
Mufflers hung with a coat hanger,
And gaskets made from cardboard and plumber's putty.
On it goes, your smug litany of complaints,
You with a yardful of donor cars,
Repro parts and reprinted catalogues,
Sage advice from savvy vendors, 20/20 hindsight,
And a back fence of bulletin boards blinking in cyberspace.
Well, where were you when tuition was due,
The baby needed diapers,
And me with no dough to pass state inspection?
Who was driving all those SUVs and high lift pickups
Spraying icy salt onto my leaking Roadster top?
Or maybe you had you had one of those Swedish swindles,
Or a British blaster that came with its own mechanic?
Show a little mercy. After all,
I kept the little peanut popper out of the wrecking yard,
While you took your good old time
To recognize a classic.
Then you haggled like a pro,
Stripping naked my years of frugal repair,
Critiquing every little fix
Like an art master fishing for forgery.
Showing off, quoting your mastery
Of FAQ's and Tom Walters' tech tips,
Singing praises of parts interchangeability,
And mouthing the SU/Solex/Mikuni mantra.
Chiseling me out of my meager parts bin,
(When I said obo, I did'nt mean Only / Buy / On the cheap)
And listen here:
What you towed from my yard,
Muffler scraping the pavement
Weeds dragging like a hula skirt,
Wasn't a car at all,
But a faded box of dreams and memories
That hurt just a little too much to keep around any more.
I wanted it to have a good home--
I hope you're it.
And if you lay off me, I won't tell anybody
Your check bounced the first time.
Bob Porter
Harrisburg PA
70 1600
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