THE BALLAD OF DON'S CAR

by Don Sakers

copyright © 19995, Don Sakers

 

Just sit right down and you'll hear a tale
A tale of two wayward cars
And all the troubles they have caused;
It's really quite a farce.

The Rabbit started making noise
One rainy April night
Don drove it to the fix-it man
'Cause it didn't sound quite right.

The fix-it man called back next week
With news that made us sick:
"The Rabbit's gonna throw a rod,
You'd better fix it quick.

"To throw a rod's an evil thing
And fixing it's a pain
We have to pull the engine out
And put it back again.

"And that runs into megabucks
A thousand just to start.
And who knows what we'll find in there -- "
His chuckle chilled my heart.

But wait, we have another choice!
A car at hand, quite near:
For Renfield's old car's in our yard --
A Chevy Cavalier.

And though the Chevy's sat for years
Unmoving as a stone
To make it run might cost much less
Than the Rabbit's rod a-thrown.

So off we towed the Cavalier
To get it fixed up nice
And meanwhile Dad loaned Don his car;
And they carpooled once or twice.

Don also took the bus sometimes
Or Thomas gave him rides.
The whole thing was a mighty pain
In everybody's sides.

At last, the Cavalier was fixed
Yet one thing barred the way:
For Don must fight the bureaucrats
Of the dreaded M.V.A.
The hateful M.V.A.

The Chevy's title vanished lo
These many years gone by
The M.V.A. can issue one,
They tell us with a sigh

But only if the owner of
The vehicle applies
In person, and in triplicate
Before their very eyes.

The M.V.A. is not a friend
To normal working stiffs
They open only nine-to-five
With no extended shifts.

It took poor Renfield near three weeks
To get there in the day
And get a brand-new title from
The wretched M.V.A.

Our story's far from over, yet
As Don and Thomas found
When they waited in a line so long
It reached for blocks around.

The woman at the counter frowned
And shook her empty head.
"This title's got no lien release.
You lose," was all she said.

Now, Renfield paid the car loan off
In Nineteen Eighty-Eight
But M.V.A. had lost the form
"So get a duplicate."

We called the bank that made the loan
And asked them what to do
They laughed until they stopped, then said:
"We'll soon take care of you."

They sent a guy spelunking in
The vaults of microfilm
'Twas lucky that the pressure there
Didn't crush and kill 'im.

So then, by fast-paced U.S. Mail,
We got the form we need,
In just a few short weeks it came
'Twas very nice indeed.

By now July was halfway done
The temperature was high
When Don collected all his forms
And heaved a mighty sigh.

He stormed the gates of M.V.A.
He stood in line for hours.
He screamed, he bitched, in battle with
The bureaucratic powers.

And when the bright red tape had cleared,
And all the checks were wrote
A sadder, wiser, poorer Don
Limped home too weak to gloat.

But though he'd lost his dignity
And temper to those hags,
At least when Don crawled out of there
He had his license tags.

With tags a-mounted, the Cavalier
Down Ritchie Highway roared
Then rested in the parking lot
While temperatures, they soared.

Came time to leave, the car won't start,
The engine doesn't grind,
The battery is without juice
And Don's left in a bind.

White-knight-like, Thomas races down
With jumper cables stout;
But just as soon as juice flows in
It straightaway flows out.

The hottest weekend of the year
Tar and macadam melt
Our heroes struggle to refit
The alternator's belt.

With rebuilt alternator in
And battery charged up
You'd think our story's at an end
And are you wrong? Oh, yup!

The alternator's putting out
The current like it should
The battery's not charging, though,
The outlook's not too good.

The Cavalier's a lovely car,
Grey sides and top of white,
With power seats and windows too,
It's quite a pretty sight.

And if someday you're driving and
You pass Don's Cavalier,
Please stop and offer him a ride
Or else he'll walk, I fear.

THE END