Saturday, December 27, 2008
Not a Mopar was stirring, not even a Dart.
The car keys were hung on their peg hooks with care,
In hopes Clif Winters soon would be there.
The tools were packed all snug in their chest,
After going non-stop for a month, they needed a rest.
And momma in her nightgown and I in my cap,
were watching re-runs of “Pinks”, to restless to nap.
When out in the road there were tires a squealin’,
I sprang from my bed to see what was peelin’.
Away to the garage door I flew like a flash,
Pulling open the door and knocking over the trash.
The full moon shone bright on the dew covered lawn,
and glinting off chrome, early before dawn.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But an early A body with a resonator and 8 cylinders.
With a little race driver that was so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Veep Clif!
More rapid than chevys his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
Now Polara and Coronet, now Valiant and ‘Cuda,
On Charger, On Challenger, On Demon and Daytona!
Watch the top of the race tree, Pre-stage lights so tall.
Now race away! Race away! Race away all!
I ran back behind my Barracuda and hid,
as Veep Clif stopped in the driveway with a skid.
He was dressed all in denim from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were covered with brake fluid and dirt.
A bundle of parts he had flung on his back,
And he looked like vendor from a swap meet at that.
Into my garage he came, a right jolly old tech,
He popped open my hood to give things a check.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He tuned her up good, and then turned with a jerk.
And laying a key in the ignition he did,
It fired right up and idled, then closed the engine bay lid.
He sprang to his ride, to the throttle gave a kick,
And down the road he blasted, rowing his Hurst 4 speed stick.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
Happy Carlisle to all, and to all a happy cruise night!