[62Cobra]

T’was a few days before Christmas
Back in ol’ Santas garage
Sorting through wrenches both small and large.

An eighth century sleigh, used once every year,
gets a little rusty and hard to get into gear.

Santa Shouted “preflight completed” ready for test run!
A twinkle in his eye that said “this should be fun.”
When down underneath there arose such a clatter
He sprang from his seat, to see what’s the matter

Santa listened closely and knew in a instant
It’s that transmission again…”I just fixed it!”

What started as only a tune before flight,
Would take him and the elves, all day and a night!

The sleigh up on jacks, Santa slithered below
Pass me a 5/8ths and black coffee to go!
He unbolted the transmission, and it fell with a thud,
aside of his nose as it fell in the mud!

Away to the work bench he flew like a flash,
Tore open the case, to adjust the gear lash.
Every child on earth was counting on him,
As he carefully inspected, each bearing and shim.

New Synchros installed, the adjustments were made,
It still wouldn’t work, who could he blame?
Then all at once, he knew in an instant
The reason his troubles seemed so persistent
On the top of the transmission, was boldly written
This part was proudly “Made in Great Brittan”

The coffee was cold as the night wore thin,
As he replaced the last spring, checked the last shim.

The transmission installed, the hard work done,
But still had to get the engine to run

More rapid than eagles, took old parts out
All over the garage they were scattered about.
Now bolt it! Now tighten it! Replace every hose!
New wires and spark plugs, don’t forget about those!
New filters! and fluids! New cap and a rotor!
There shouldn’t be anything wrong with that motor.

He spoke not a word, but kept bent at his work,
Until his eyes were all bleary; and his fingers all hurt.

“Work light” a breast of new fallen snow,
Gives luster to objects that went missing below
Then in a twinkling, he knew without doubt
The garage doors flew open and he pushed her out

Everything replaced, rebuilt and lubricated,
Now fuel injected, and not carbureted.

All cleaned up, his tools in the chest,
He fell into bed, for some well-deserved rest.
He thought to himself, when falling asleep,
That sleigh better fly or it’s too the junk heap.

T’was snowy and dark that Christmas Eve night
Santa climbed aboard and held the rains tight
Santa shouted with joy, as the sleigh took flight
Merry Christmas to all! And to all a Good…
Oh NO!..”the check engine light!”


Merry Christmas from down here in Florida!
70 degrees tomorrow and I'm taking the Cobra to work!

Kim