Cars Through The Years: They All Had Their Names Pt.9 Poem by Frank Avon

And so it was to be. They were
settled quietly, the Marquis
and Petunia the Purple Pick-Up Truck.
Their charges, no longer as sprightly
as they once were, hobbled in and out.
The Lord and his Lady had graduated
to new titles, the most honorable of all:
Poppa and MomB (to all of you
mere mortals, who are uninitiated,
these mean Grandpapa and Grandmama,
but Poppa and MomB fit them better,
and, as the Marquis and Petunia knew,
names are important, even for people) .
So they settled in, and the years
flew by. Trips to Kansas, with first one,
then the other, to see three granddaughters,
and flights across the Pacific to see
the two grandsons, Aussies to the core.
Back to Tennessee, for surviving family,
those class reunions that creep upon us,
and autumn leaves at Fall Creek Falls.
Once to the Adirondacks. Sometimes
to Texas or Wisconsin or Ioway.
You get the picture. That's the way it was.

Any questions? No. Then we'll move on.

This time, headlines made the difference.
Petunia and the Marquis were in the best
of health: maybe a bit tired, otherwise
like new. No hailstorms, snowstorms,
no deer at midnight or hit-and-run durivers.

Headline #1:
THE FORD MOTOR COMPANY ANNOUNCES
IT IS TO DISCONTINUE MAKING MERCURY'S

Then one day, at the local dealership,
there he sat: the Marquis's first cousin,
a newer model, silver, Chariot d'Argent.
The trade was made: Marquis I retired,
Marquis II was hired. All was well
on shady Talent Drive. Drive on.

Headline #2:
PRESIDENT OBAMA ANNOUNCES
THE CASH FOR CLUNKERS PROGRAM
to lift auto manufacturers
out of severe Depression.

Now, Petunia was no clunker;
she was really in her prime,
but she was fifteen years old
(in human years that's more like
one-hundred-and-seventy-five!) .
Maybe it was time to let
the Ranger range in golden pastures.
The trade was made: Petunia's distant
cousin, a little Ford Escape
(was she black or metallic green
or a deep, deep blue? - it depended
on your angle and the sun's rays)
came to Talent Drive, to take
Petunia's place - in the driveway,
while Marquis II reigned in the garage.
Essie (they thought she should be
designated as an Escapade, instead
of an Escape, so they settled on
Essie) was busy, busy, busy.
A little SUV, she transported
her people wherever they needed to go,
and in the spacious place
behind her back seat, she hauled
all sorts of plants for the flower
bed (annuals, perennials, bulbs,
seeds, trees, shrubs) with topsoil,
cow manure, peat moss and mulch
to provide proper bedding for them;
probably tons of groceries,
luggage packed tight, a dog house,
more antiques, rare books
(and not so rare) , lots of junque,
hardware, software, more computers
than you could count (they all
wore out) , wheelbarrows,
vacuum cleaners, red wagons,
brief cases, sewing machines,
empty boxes, etc. etc. etc.
She adopted their rat terrier,
named Peanut, who nestled comfy
in her back seat for trips,
across town, to dog parks,
walking trails, shopping malls,
restaurants, across country
to Ft. Lauderdale, Nashville,
Dallas/Ft. Worth, all over.
She was not fastidious.
Though she was cleaned periodically,
mud and dust and trash accumulated
on her floor; acorns and lichens
and insect-infested leaves,
and twigs chopped off by saw-worms,
all from the shingle oak she sat under,
(oh, and bird-do!) kept her iridescence
in disguise (black or green or blue) .

Like Petunia and Marquis I,
Essie and Marquis II, were beloved;
more important, they were respected.
What you name, you are less likely
to defame; what you name you are
more likely to claim as your kin.
What you name you feel affection for.
What you name will always be the same
for you. Bel-Airs have disappeared
from the landscape, but Dimples
lives on in our memories, her hail
marks, her etched scars.
Station wagons and vans for people
are a thing of the past, but not
Dirty Red or Moby Dimple, or even
the hapless Munchkin. Toyotas
have risen in the world, are now
snobs around their lesser brothers,
but Teddy has his place in our
family history (with all his scrapes) .
LeBarons, those old squares, have
made way for sleeker wares, but
the Silver Pimpernell - who could
forget him? Rangers - well, they
are virtual strangers now, but not
Petunia. She's still our charmer,
the Purple Pick-Up Truck. Ford
may no longer make the Mercury,
but the dealers' loss is Olympus' gain -
or should that be Valhalla. If
there be a Valhalla for automobiles,
we shall not grieve, we'll be relieved,
for we know the names we bestowed
will be inscribed in that Book Hallowed.


AND THERE MAY BE MORE OF THE STORY
YET TO COME. HANG ON!