Joyride

That old truck was faded red,

it had a big hole in the bed.

Blue Flame Six beneath the hood,

as I recall, it ran real good.

Granny gear to get it goin’

no matter what it was towin’

Cowboy tough, like the Old Man,

it made the Thills a two car Clan.

Starter pedal on the floor,

mash the gas, let her roar.

Broke off key in the switch,

Johnny says, “That ain’t no glitch.”

Old screwdriver does the trick,

that ignition lock to pick.

Livin’ at the edge of town,

might as well drive around.

Mom and Dad, they won’t mind,

got no license of any kind.

Johnny takes the wheel with pride,

Virgil sits on the passenger side.

They had me ridin’ in the back,

Mom would have a heart attack.

We can’t drive it on the street,

we take the dike to be discreet.

Weave along the bumpy trail,

we’re too young to go to jail.

Johnny steers while Virgil shifts,

Tie rod’s loose, the front-end drifts.

Brakes are fair, tires are rotten,

but look how far we have gotten!

Cross the tracks by the river bank,

far from home, damn good prank.

See that cop out eyin’ us,

hope he don’t make a fuss.

Jurisdiction is a damn good thing,

city cop can’t end our fling.

Grindin’ gears, we turn around,

time to be homeward bound.

Oh, to be that kid in the back,

drivin’ on an old dirt track.

Learnin’ how to make our way,

In that beat-up Chevrolet.

LDT Jan 1, ‘22

          Eventually all three of us got to drive Dad’s ’50 Chevy pickup. My first drive was probably the most catastrophic. I missed my turn, jumped the barrow pit, took out a fence and put Dad’s head into the windshield. I was 12.

Main Menu: azrockdodger.com

Blog Signup: https://azrockdodger.com/blog/