A Car Guy's Christmas Poem

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The following poem comes courtesy of Hemmings Daily reader Vance Mehlenbacher in Camrose, Alberta, Canada. We liked it so much, we wanted to share it with all of you. We hope you enjoy it as much as we did!

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and in the garage
There sat in the corner, a classic old Dodge
My sixty nine Charger, near ready to go
To all of next season’s burnouts and shows
 
Its perfect black body, with a white R/T stripe
Red leather interior, the seats are just right
A pistol grip shifter coming up through the floor
Now hooked to a six speed, not five, and not four.
 
It sits with the hood up, not quite running yet
The problem elusive, but simple I bet
The four-two-six HEMI of legend and lore
“Why won’t you run? I can’t take it no more.”
 
Now freshly rebuilt, this elephant mill
Just thinking about it gives me a chill
All of that horsepower, all of that torque
I can’t make it run. I feel like a dork.
 
I’m about to turn in, and go off to bed
Thinking a good sleep should help clear my head
When ever so slightly, I hear someone’s laughter
And jingle bells ringing, and hooves pitter-patter
 
“Is this for real?” I thought to myself
Could it be? The jolly old elf?
I opened the side door and had a look out
The sleigh that I saw removed any doubt
 
Across the street, he was making the rounds
Rooftop to rooftop, in leaps and bounds
Then he was gone, but the sleigh still remained
For what happened next, I’ll have to explain
 
As I turned around, what do you know
Santa Claus himself, the star of the show
Was standing there, grinning, right there by the car
His pearly whites glistening, reflecting like stars
 
I stammered “S-Santa?!” And he started to snicker
I took a deep breath to calm down my ticker
He was checking it over, no angle undone
And then he said nicely, “Can I hear it run?”
 
I hated to say it, had no other choice
This problem I had with my Charger’s voice
“I wish that we could, but I’m afraid not tonight.
It’ll turn over, but it simply won’t light.I know it’s ignition, of this I’m sure.
But I’m out of ideas. Do you have a cure?”
 
He pondered a moment, then scratched his chin.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you jump in?”
I climbed in the car as he fiddled around
And he said “Aha! You have a bad ground.
This wire on the coil should be attached here.”
And over he moved it, without any fear.
 
“Hit it!” he said, his grin growing wide
I pushed in the clutch and let out a sigh
I wiggled the shifter and hit the ol’ key…
And it fired at once. I howled with glee!
 
The exhaust is so loud it rattles the walls
Santa yelled over it, “I bet this thing hauls!”
I killed it and jumped out, unable to speak
Santa had fixed it with one little tweak!
 
“You know about cars?” I finally asked.
“Oh, yes!” he replied. “My veins run with gas.
I work but one night, so with my spare time
I tinker and wrench, it sharpens the mind.
I have a collection that rivals the best
It’s my preferred hobby when I am at rest.”
 
I shook his hand thank you, we nodded goodbye
And with that he vanished in the blink of an eye.
As I went in to head off to bed,
I thought about everything Santa had said
Turns out he’s a car guy! And now that you know,
Perhaps you’ll see him – at your next show!

We'd like to wish you all a merry Christmas and a very happy holiday season! For more classic car news, be sure to check out The Hemmings Daily Blog.

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One thought on “A Car Guy's Christmas Poem

  1. It 's Christmas day here in 2015, I lay on cardboard to keep my clothes clean. The battery unhooked, the starter comes down. Picked one up last night in that Wichita Falls town. A turn of the key brings that Mustang to life, just like it did new in 1965. Out on a trailer another car is waiting, needing attention and I'm not hesitating. Repaired the 1st and reverse lever on the steering column, this 63 Impala is far from solemn. A new aluminum piece for the front bumper, also the cam is a real mother thumper. It's off to the shower to shine and to shave, then go see my wife that chemo can't save. You can fix oil leaks, hinges and rust, love your loved ones, that is a must. Take it from me, Dancer and Prancer, go get yourself checked for all kinds of cancer. Merry Christmas

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