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Saturday, February 2, 2013

Buick Karma

In 1918 my great grandfather drove a Buick
I don't know if it was brand new
I don't know what color it was
I don't know if he loved it
Or if it was just another car

In 1918 my great grandfather died in a Buick
The story goes that he burned to death
Right after a horrible accident
On the Bay City streets

My grandfather was 18
And since his father had just died in a Buick
Grandfather swore he would never own a Buick

And so it went
With a parade of vehicles
Throughout the rest of his life
Some Fords made their home with him
Though the bulk of them were Chryslers
Of one kind or another

Taking him on long vacations
Back and forth to work at Putz Hardware
Carrying supplies when he built his house
The one at 900 Germania that's still there

Then later carrying more lumber up North
To the beach where he built his summer cottage
On the shores of Saginaw Bay
With his best friend Mick
And a whole lot of steel canned beer
If the clumps of rusty beer cans
That were occasionally dug up
Were any indication

When I met my grandfather in 1971
He drove a new Bronze colored Chrysler Newport
A long and large fuselage styled car
Which took him and his wife to see me
Because at that age that's how I saw it

Where else could be more important?

When he turned seventy five
The old Chrysler only took him places
First to bury his wife
To work at the Hardware
And naturally
To see me

In late 1979 he bought a Buick
And by early 1980 grandfather was dead
Passing away peacefully
While taking his morning constitution

And so it came to pass
That I swore I would never own a Buick

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