A few years ago, I spent some time blogging and commenting on another site that wasn’t really a blogging site, per se. It was supposed to be a news-related site, and all blog posts were meant to be about current events (which could include book and movie reviews among other topics). Naturally long-time users found a lot of latitude in what constituted current events. One of the reasons I dropped off was the poor signal/noise ratio, but the main reason was the sense of restriction imposed by the current events policy.
One of the big regulars was a guy who liked to stage writing exercises for those interested. He would offer a topic and we would all dash off a blog article related to that topic. Below is my contribution to one such exercise. The topic was to write a piece from the point of view of our car. I’m no poet, but I thought this turned out rather well.
In fact, it almost scans well enough to be set to music. (Needs a bit of work on the metre of the “Avatar” line, though. No, don’t offer suggestions… I’d rather do it myself, thanks!)
In the View of his Car?
In the view of his car?
You have no idea.
Do you know who I am?
I’m the best of my kind.
I’m a Jeep Cherokee.
Don’t you know what that means?
In the view of his car?
My tale’s not a good one.
I was bought on a whim.
“Always wanted a Jeep!”
I’m a Grand Cherokee.
Don’t you know what that means?
In the view of his car?
Well, what I saw was this:
Me traded in by an Owner who cared.
Not even cleaned, only been there since three.
Then they come along, the wife, kids and he.
Test drive, signed contract; new driveway for me.
Since then my status has slipped a few pegs.
Gets me around; that is all that he cares.
At least I get gas and checks ‘neath the hood.
(A bath now and then would be very good.)
I’m dented, I’m rusting, my glass is cracked.
My tabs and his license needs be renewed.
One-twenty K miles; could go many more.
Could change be in sight; a trade in again?
In the view of his car?
No, it just can’t be done.
To him just a car; not his avatar.
I’m a Jeep Cherokee.
Don’t you know what that means?
In fact, I did end up selling it to a friend who bought it for his kid. I have no doubt it found a great home and continues to give great service. And that’s the second vehicle I’ve loved (despite what the car seems to think) and gone on to sell to a young man who, one hopes, loves it as much as I did.
What am I driving now? Well there she is on the left. (She? He? Whatever. I don’t really personalize my car, no matter what the poem above suggests—it was a writing assignment!)
That’s a Ford Fusion (Sport!). When the time came to buy a car, I was (a) definitely going to buy an American car, and (b) going to buy a Ford. For one thing, they were the only car maker that didn’t need to be bailed out due to short-sighted business practices. And it had been a long time since anyone in my family had owned a Ford, so I thought it was time to give it a try (I’d owned a Dodge (sweet car: Dodge Shelby Charger!) and a GMC Jimmy).
Gotta say: no complaints! Love the car. Love talking to the radio. Love plugging in the iTunes and saying, “Play Bruce Cockburn” (and it figures it out!).
If the car has a flaw, it’s that it goes way too fast way too easily!
In an earlier post, I wrote that:
Logos con carne 