Even after two years, it still brings a tear to my eye..... Ode to My '86 Buick Park Avenue The first time ever I saw her shine, I knew this cheap hot-rod, race car'd be mine, Her insides all warm, red velvety plush, All cushy and cozy and soft on the tush. The shell was high gloss and black as the night, If you looked you'd be shocked that the driver was white, ‘Specially with tunes booming loudly with bass, Sparkley beads of red glass o'er each window place. But alas, last week - I was late for a meeting, Drove fast round the Dells, skidding and teetering, Went to turn right onto First Avenue, And that was when the poor timing chain flew. It slipped a few cogs and everything died, She wouldn't restart - much cursing I tried, The valves got all bent and rods went awry, Compression was shot down to 10 psi! With sadness I towed her, (god bless AAA), To Pat the mechanic, his prognosis: Nay! So it's time for me now to say my goodbye, As my Buick ascends to car heaven up high. * * * But Lo, look afar! I see a great whale, It's black sure as [@!#!$] and rides like on rails, Swishier yet! And takes up TWO lanes, A Buick Roadmaster's on sale at Car Main. - Barb from Wisconsin, 2003
