The snow had started at noon.
It was New Year's Eve again,
another year down the drain.
My new toy, metallic blue, ABS,
all the fruit, the salesman said,
was ready and waiting inside
the warm garage, halogen eyes shut.
Power everything,401 V-8,
full time four wheel drive, a Jeep.
Frigging holidays, always seem to
foul up the mood in this house,
another storm coming tonight,
and I don't mean to talk about snow.
Leave her to the damn dishes,
Gallo Hearty Burgundy, Wild Turkey,
an interesting mix, but nothing novel,
and one more word from the kitchen,
who needs this, today, of all days.
The V-8 rumbles sweetly, promising all,
this is the USA, shopping centre open,
snow plow en route, life as usual, yeah.
Flasher dead ahead, ah, the local yokel,
has nabbed himself a snow-speeder, Ford,
F-250, but a 360 lame duck blue motor,
passing him is a little bit like crying, they say,
the mother drops his book and takes up
instantly and with obvious urgency now,
the pursuit of happiness, which is what I feel
warmed inside and a trifle of adrenalin in tow,
I step on it, Quadratrac, we must be victorious,
no use having the newspaper headline tomorrow,
no medical emergency to invent, no excuses,
six halogen lights leading the charge, ice, snow,
a secondary road seems to be the thing tonight,
yes he has fallen way back, dim lights, sliding.
Seems that neither of us made it for midnight
that fateful night, the chase went on and on,
advantage being with the gods and me, yeah.
In the end, it was the local copper, he was something,
never to be believed, but a gentleman with a big heart.
Nothing ever came of it, the plates were forgotten,
he had lost the game in a somewhat fair manner,
and New Year's Day was a new leaf, a new beginning.
Not to be sullied by a mess carried over from the past.
I did, some ten years later, get to shake his hand,
he'd known all along, but they did not have, in those days
a quota. You see, it was the old days, the world was still,
in some weird and wonderful way, perfect enough, yeah.