A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.
I’ll never forget the day checkenginelight died. On the spot. Approximately 112 feet from the Hot…….. Rod……… Lincoln… Not the checkenginelight had served me well…. It was my beloved sister’s… when she passed, she’d provided it for my father… and was left for me… I made sure my ex brother in law, who’d said (my dad was in beginning stages of Parkinsons) “well, Ok, your dad can take it… but when he starts getting all shaky and everything, I want it back.” He never set foot in that car again.
But february made me shiver
With every paper Id deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldnt take one more step.
I have delivered papers, in two different stages of my life. Once as a kid (rode to a town fitteen miles away, I was like fitteen, dude driving 40-something.. He’d have 3 beers on the way there, 3 beers on the way back. Somehow, ‘news’ we always made it.)
And… When whatshername and I started our delivery business, we had ZERO customers, so… I got up at 1am daily to deliver The USA Today when it very first came out, and then went on to the delivery detail afta. It would be (close your ears) the shits to have that much energy again!
I cant remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.
In this case, the ‘widowed bride’ is me. En route to work this morning, the HRL started regurgitating. It was like “I refuse to make that GD drive from Liberty to Grandview AGAIN.” But it made it. Coming home, through the virtue of open windows (no Gosh Darn AC), whenever I’d pass a car, the reflection of HIDEOUS sound worried me. I was hopin’ it was the car in the nuther lane. Nope. The HRL. Twelve miles from home, smoke started comin’ outthe back of her like a peace pipe. Oh shit, here we go again.
So bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye
Singin, thisll be the day that I die.
Thisll be the day that I die.
I pulled over on Interstate. Had somewhere around four seconds to get outta my car without getting blown to smithereens by a car in the far right lane. Hood popped, I peeked my non-mechanical head down there. In a very fast nutshell, I deemed (like Norman chasing “Walter”) “HRL YOU SONOFABITCH!”
Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
Don Mclean. The hell’s all that doing in the middlea my blog? No, NOT the book of love, you’ve been here, I’m relationship challenged for boohoogety sakes. I’m on the GS sidea the highway and you’re talking music? Dancing slow?
Well, I know that youre in love with him
`cause I saw you dancin in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.
For a very short time, I was in love with the Hot… Rod… Lincoln. Then Maynard (don’t tell I’m telling) kicked the passenger door in during onea his ‘fits’. Then, I was taking five fine lasses to lunch at work. The passenger door decided it didn’t wanna latch one day, and a let turn almost resulted in a ‘human on the highway.’ Thank God I grabbed her arm before she keypunched
.
I was a lonely teenage broncin buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.
Yes, out of luck, the day, the HRL died. “Hi. Is this Liberty Tow? It’s me Vic.” Oh YEAH Vic, howya been? We ain’t heard from you in three weeks.
I started singin,
Bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye
And singin, thisll be the day that I die.
Thisll be the day that I die.
The levee was dry. However, I am my father’s son. My father could converse with anyone. I’ll never live up to his bullshittedness (God rest his soul… just onea the reasons I loved him so much.) If he was dealing in an arrangement where dollars were coming outta his pocket, he’d go thru verse and stories like crazy, have “the other end” smiling, patting him on the back, and sometimes, in the end, insteada “that’ll be fitty bucks” it was “Oh no sir, HERE, you take it.” Gratis. His (nickname) initials were BS.
Tonight, en route home with Liberty Tow, I was BS “in training.” I listened to every God-forsaken story this man told ($60 hookup fee, $3 a mile).. And I BS’ed right back at him. Without saying so much as an ‘atta boy’ to the stories he told, I made him feel like he was king. Right on brother. You da man! Initially, he’d ball parked $110. When we pulled in, he finally got all the chains off.. He smiled, shook my hand and said “You need a receipt for insurance?” Nah, I’m good. “Then here’s what we’ll do… we’ll write it up as $96... And by paying by cash, we’ll knock that down to $80.” For one very long second, I actually saw my father smiling. Cat’s in the cradle.
Now for ten years weve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin stone,
But thats not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from james dean
And a voice that came from you and me,
Well, it ain’t been ten years, but I’ve been sleeping with cats for about 7 now.
Oh, and while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while lennon read a book of marx,
The quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died.
There was no tomfoolery in the demise of the HRL. It served me kinda-sorta well YOU SONOFABITCH. I had the option “take it to a shop”, or “home” (the HRL eventual graveyard.) Two thousand in car repair in the last four months tells me “Victor you coulda leased a hummer for that.”
We were singing,
Bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye
And singin, thisll be the day that I die.
Thisll be the day that I die.
I love you HRL, but I won’t miss you.
Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.
I will be a jester tomorrow when I try to convince (BS mebbe?) someone to sell me a car dirt cheap (“and is there ANY way you could finance the sale’s tax in on that?”)
Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the players tried to take the field;
The marching band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?
It’s not a sad day. It’s a day to reflect. To remember. To smile. Corny as it may sound… I’d walked about a mile (Victor, for boohoogety sakes GET a cell phone)… I asked the dude if he could pick me up from the Quick Trip “bouta mile Northa the HRL.” Sure, can do. When we finally pulled up alongside the SONOFABITCH, he got out. “Need help?”… Nah, I’ll be allright. I looked to my right. The prettiest natural growing purple flowers I ever did see. For real. I smiled. Put the whole damn thing in perspective. Or tried to.
We started singing,
Bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye
And singin, thisll be the day that I die.
Thisll be the day that I die.
GONE! Soon she will be!
Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
Jack flash sat on a candlestick
Cause fire is the devils only friend.
Damn Don, hella long song. Did u do the screenplay for Dark Night?
Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage.
No angel born in hell
Could break that satans spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw satan laughing with delight
The day the music died
There were no flames. Hella smoke, but no flames.
He was singing,
Bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye
And singin, thisll be the day that I die.
Thisll be the day that I die.
August 12, 2008, HRL, RIP.
I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the sacred store
Where Id heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldnt play.
Victor, give it up, they left you the 12th paragraph of the song.
And in the streets: the children screamed,
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.
Just got off phone with niece. Ain’t riding train, but tomorrow she’s letting me borrow her car to find “new” car.
And they were singing,
Bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye
Singin, thisll be the day that I die.
Thisll be the day that I die.
Maybe I shoulda done 3 Dog Night’s “CELEBRATE”
They were singing,
Bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye
Singin, thisll be the day that I die.
Welcome to car heaven HRL. Sorry you hadta get smashed to get here. (Victor, you dweeb, donate it to charity.) HAS THIS DUDE SEEN MY BANK BALANCE? In a better day, I have done that.
For whatever reason, I’m happy. Twas a step/move I’d needed to make long ago. Keep the faith (I do)… Enjoy the shit, along with the sherbet. I’ll do my best to “BS” me a deal tomorrow. The sun’ll come out tomorrow.. Right you little redheaded snotnose?
RIP……. HRL………. June 29, 2007 - August 12, 2008.. .$1800 purchase.. Some $3000 in shit-eatin’grin repair fees since….
Son you’re gonna drive me to drinkin’ if you don’t stop drivin’ that HOT…….. ROD…….. LINCOLN….
K, will. Love, NewerCarTurd.
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