My Dad's Car
The year I was born, my dad had a car like this.
My mom always said it was his second family.
It cost so much to keep this thing functioning,
you could have fed an extra wife and a couple of kids
with that money.
Most of the repairs he did himself. In those days you still could.
A regular grease monkey, he was.
Kept her all clean and waxed down, changed the oil,
regularly looked under the hood.
My mom always said he should'a been a car or truck mechanic.
He certainly had the knack for it.
There she sits, now still in all her antique glory.
Never used much or driven too hard.
A real gentleman he was with his vehicles.
So now, when we look at his truck,
we can see all his growth rings,
in the shine on the hood.
Writing by Regina Stemberger