Our local public radio station kicks off its Fall Fund Drive this week.
I pledge because I adore virtually every program they offer, from Morning Edition and Excursions to Fresh Air and All Things Considered. My hands-down favorite is Car Talk. Yes, I know Tommy Magliozzi has gone on to his reward and the shows are just syndicated rebroadcasts, but Saturday mornings would not be complete without his obnoxious laughter and a few rounds of automotive onomatopoeia.
Tommy and Ray, this one’s for you:
Winged thieves haul off
with my old jalopy
and carry it, piecemeal,
into a tree beside my window
They swallow its parts
and digest their voices,
only to regurgitate their songs
in clever mimicry.
A conversation cranks up
A starter shudders and stutters.
Squeaks and squeals trail on its heels
The idle protestations of a loose belt.
An ear-splitting screech cuts in
Worn brakes skid the chatter to a halt.
Erratic clucking gently chides
The fibrillations of a cooling engine.
They randomly bicker and dicker,
like raucous old geezers
at a Saturday part swap,
trading nothing more than hot air.
When the sun grows fierce,
they retreat and quietly reassemble
the pilfered parts into a heap
in my driveway.
By the way, guys, your response regarding the mismatched tires on my 1966 VW Bus was right on the money. In your words, it was “like worrying about the curtains on the Titanic” and “this Bus handles like a vertical pizza box on a skateboard. It’s not something to lose sleep over.” I haven’t. And I just wanted to say thanks.