The Lighter Side of Owning a Ferrari
When I attended the Formula 1 race at Indianapolis this past June, I had the pleasure of meeting and talking with author Bert Levy. Many of you may be familiar with Mr. Levy as the author of the Open Road fictional trilogy which consist of “The Last Open Road,” “Montezuma’s Ferrari,” and “The Fabulous Trash Wagon.” As I spoke to Mr. Levy he told me tales of women, cars, how to deal with my brother-in-law, and finally his poetry. In fact, through the discussion he told me that he is probably the only automotive poet in the country.
On the drive back from Indy, my partner Roger, a diehard McLaren fan was naturally rather distraught about the F1 race, the drivers, and the season. He was so disappointed that he felt it prudent to keep our speed below 45 mph, trying in a way to emulate the McLaren drivers Kimi Räikkönen and David Coulthard. I realized it was going to be a long and boring ride home. There were endless miles of corn fields and wheat fields, an emotionally distraught F1 fan about to convert to NASCAR, and only 16 hours of driving left. It was then that I began thinking about the conversation between Burt and myself. Burt said he was probably the only automotive poet in the country. “Heck, I could do that,” I thought. Maybe I might even corner the market before Burt gets a foothold. After all, I had all of Missouri and Kansas to demonstrate my ability to master iambic pentameter and onomatopoeia. So, as I listened to a country western radio station playing the old tune “The Streets of Laredo,” my creative juices began to flow. So here ya go Burt Levy, eat your heart out.
As I was a washing my little Ferrari
I scrubbed and I rubbed till my elbows both hurt
And try as I might to wash my white Ferrari
I couldn’t help notice the clusters of dirt
I continued washing my little Ferrari
I swore that I’d clean up my little white car
And after inspecting the doors and the fenders
I couldn’t help notice the sticky black tar
I ran to the store to buy stronger detergent
I knew I would need a more powerful soap
But after five hours of serious scrubbing
Getting the tar off was way beyond hope
I continued with scraping the front of the bumpers
I saw how the bugs had been seriously squashed
It was then I decided to drive to the city
And pay someone else to have my Ferrari washed.
Ending # 1: WOW! That’s really good! No Great! (Look forward to more poetry from me in upcoming issues of the Ferrari News Letter).
Ending # 2: Yeah, Burt Levy is the only American automotive poet, for pity’s sake stop!
Ferrari Club Members, vote for your favorite ending.