| Author | Date Entered/Modified | Views |
| Daniel A. Stafford | 9/5/2000 3:33:53 AM 10/8/2022 3:56:14 PM | 750 |
Brown Beast Running
Metal, old, painted brown, rusting.
Vinyl, flaking and stained, I'm trusting.
$400.00 car bought used, sporting 100,000 miles.
Mom's temporary ride, thinking of it brings smiles.
Mom bought a new red sports car, my brother is running Beastie.
I'm living in Dallas, broke, walking far.
I told my Mom that I desperately needed a car.
My ex-brother in law came to Wisconsin to get the girls.
I rode with to pick up the Beast, how the wheel whirls.
140,000 miles on the clock, ticking.
"If anything happens, pull the plates, leave her along the side."
I left Beloit on a thousand mile trip, taking that advice in stride.
The Beast entered Texas with a V8 rumble,
Running mile after mile with not a single stumble.
Add forty thousand miles around the metroplex.
Hours under the hood well spent,
A slight bender the bumper got bent.
Carrying sheet rock and plywood on the roof,
Others turned up their noses, aloof.
Painted silver eagles with red eyes on the sides.
Air shocks and eight gallons of water on long hot rides.
My best friend Luis off to a masters program in Phoenix,
His eyes bugged out when he saw her, but I knew all her tricks.
Arizona saw the Beast for the first time.
I spent a few days helping to settle him in,
Then I headed the Beast back towards Dallas with a grin.
Moving day came, and we were Florida bound.
Onward we kept riding, miles of rumbling sound.
Five hours under the hood in Jackson Mississippi.
Pulled half the motor apart in a parts store parking lot,
I cussed and swore but I replaced the timing cover shot.
Driving over the two mile bridge into the Pan Handle Coast.
The Beast sure fooled everyone, they'd all thought she'd be toast.
Fort Walton Beach, and the Beast saw white sand and emerald waves.
Off down to Tampa, heater core bypassed,
It had leaked like a sieve, it's time was past.
An early morning, up with the sun,
It was time to head for home, my Florida time was done.
85 degrees in February, Florida sun, windows down rolling.
Hit the Tennessee line in a snow storm.
No heat in the car, frozen toes needing warm.
Six pairs of socks stopping every hundred miles to thaw,
Made it past the overturned semi, by the red light flashes I saw.
A foot of snow in a state that never gets an inch, at night.
I never dropped anything out the holes in the bottom of the trunk,
And despite the everywhere rust spots, the old girl still had spunk.
Pulled her in the Janesville drive, found a place to park.
Later, living in the big farmhouse, under the tree her mark.
Two years hiding in the shade, started every now and again.
Shocked everyone every time, but I'd just pat the dash and grin.
The lock was falling out the driver's door, she was ugly as sin.
The big hole in the driver's seat, stuffed with pillows full,
And the stereo on the floor, I'd done the wire pull.
Truck broke down, she saved my butt, off to work again.
I took to work two weeks, an hour down, another back again,
She dropped her exhaust along the way, but a wire hanger did win.
The gas gauge never worked from before we were friends,
I kept the mileage on three by five's, that's how I knew the end.
I think it near broke my heart when she threw the rod in the spring.
I'll always remember Beastie running, 220,000 miles on her 318.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000
Author's Comments
I put 80,000+ miles on that rusty, brown, ugly ol' 1973 Dodge Polara. But for what Mom paid, That car gave it everything, carried the whole family and lots of friends at one time or another. I spent hours cussing under the hood, or fixing this or that, and it was the family joke, but I think this car was the original going & going example. A raggledy ride sure beats a dressed up walk, and I will always remember the Brown Beast running.
| Author | Date Entered/Modified | Views |
| Daniel A. Stafford | 9/5/2000 3:33:53 AM 10/8/2022 3:56:14 PM | 750 |
Total Comments: 1
Comments | |||
| Daniel A. Stafford | aqmstaffo@mailbag.com | 9/5/2000 3:44:23 AM | |
| Beastie, 1973-1994 | |||