Thursday, March 3, 2011

ODE TO BETSY


My truck died this week.  Well, I should say she is very very ill.  Her name is Betsy.  Yes, at first, all she required was a little "plastic surgery".  A bit of bondo, a bit of paint, a bit of oil here and there.  That's how the illness started.  And now, here we are...nearing the end of the road.  She nearly took me down with her yesterday when her brakes gave out.  Thank the good Lord that we got home safe and no one was injured.

Oh we have had some good times she and I.  She is 17 years old.  Some would say she's in the prime of life.  But alas, my mechanic says otherwise.  She needs major surgery if she is to survive at all..." complete overhaul" I think he said.  I couldn't hear after I heard the words "big bucks".


When I think of the many loads of fabulous junk she has hauled home for me, I get teary.  Or how about all the little jaunts we took looking at the city just the two of us?  I remember when I saw her in the lot at the dealership that first day.  I took one look and it was just like it was when I saw my hubby for the first time... I knew Betsy was the truck for me.  Oh, she was used.  Yup.  Someone had their way with her before I got her.  He may have been a little rough.

 Her chassie was shook up and the tires on her were balding.  I cannot guess what all went on in her bed in back.  Her steering wheel had been groped by who knows how many men. And someone had farted into her upholstry alot.  I mean, how much can a gal take?.  Nevertheless, she was a looker in her day.  With that "long box",  steely grey interior and a set of headlights that would make a grown man cry.  But alas, as happens to us all, the looks have faded and rust has set in.  And sadly, she has some scarring on her rear end.


She is resting comfortably in the driveway now.  Her engine is quiet and although the brake line is still bleeding a bit, it will be replaced tomorrow.  Then we will see how things progress from there.  The prognosis isn't good but we can always hope for a miracle folks.  So, before Betsy goes to that great junkyard in the sky, let us pray for her.....she needs all the help she can get!

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