A poem for you all:
Twas the night before Christmas, and in the garage
There sat in the corner, a classic old 4x4 barge
My 77 Cruiser near ready to go
To all of next season’s rock crawls and shows
Its perfect patina body, with a big rust stripe
black pleather interior, the seats are just right
Two sticks coming up through the floor
One now hooked up to a five speed, no longer four.
It sits with the hood up, not quite running yet
The problem elusive, but simple I bet
The four-two 2F of legend and lore
“Why won’t you run? I can’t take it no more.”
Now freshly rebuilt, this iron pig mill
Just thinking about it gives me a chill
That lack of horsepower, but, oh, that low end torque
I can’t make it run. I feel like a dork.
I’m about to turn in, and go off to bed
Thinking a good sleep should help clear my head
When ever so slightly, I hear someone’s laughter
And jingle bells ringing, and hooves pitter-patter
“Is this for real?” I thought to myself
Could it be? The jolly old elf?
I opened the side door and had a look out
The sleigh that I saw removed any doubt
Across the street, he was making the rounds
Rooftop to rooftop, in leaps and bounds
Then he was gone, but the sleigh still remained
For what happened next, I’ll have to explain
As I turned around, what do you know
Santa Claus himself, the star of the show
Was standing there, grinning, right there by the rig
His eyes glistening, as he looked at the pig
I stammered “S-Santa?!” And he started to snicker
I took a deep breath to calm down my ticker
He was checking it over, no angle undone
And then he said nicely, “Can I hear it run?”
I hated to say it, had no other choice
This problem I had with my Cruisers voice
“I wish that we could, but I’m afraid not tonight.
It’ll turn over, but it simply won’t light.I know it’s ignition, of this I’m sure.
But I’m out of ideas. Do you have a cure?”
He pondered a moment, then scratched his chin.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you jump in?”
I climbed in the 55 as he fiddled around
And he said “Aha! You have a bad ground.
This wire on the coil should be attached here.”
And over he moved it, without any fear.
“Hit it!” he said, his grin growing wide
I pushed in the clutch and let out a sigh
I wiggled the shifter and hit the ol’ key…
And it fired at once. I howled with glee!
The open exhaust is so loud it rattles the walls
Santa yelled over it, “I bet this thing crawls!”
I killed it and jumped out, unable to speak
Santa had fixed it with one little tweak!
“You know about cars?” I finally asked.
“Oh, yes!” he replied. “My veins run with gas.
I work but one night, so with my spare time
I tinker and wrench, it sharpens the mind.
I have a collection that rivals the best
It’s my preferred hobby when I am at rest.”
I shook his hand thank you, we nodded goodbye
And with that he vanished in the blink of an eye.
As I went in to head off to bed,
I thought about everything Santa had said
Turns out he’s a cruiser guy! And oh what fun,
Perhaps you’ll see him – at your next trail Run!
Twas the night before Christmas, and in the garage
There sat in the corner, a classic old 4x4 barge
My 77 Cruiser near ready to go
To all of next season’s rock crawls and shows
Its perfect patina body, with a big rust stripe
black pleather interior, the seats are just right
Two sticks coming up through the floor
One now hooked up to a five speed, no longer four.
It sits with the hood up, not quite running yet
The problem elusive, but simple I bet
The four-two 2F of legend and lore
“Why won’t you run? I can’t take it no more.”
Now freshly rebuilt, this iron pig mill
Just thinking about it gives me a chill
That lack of horsepower, but, oh, that low end torque
I can’t make it run. I feel like a dork.
I’m about to turn in, and go off to bed
Thinking a good sleep should help clear my head
When ever so slightly, I hear someone’s laughter
And jingle bells ringing, and hooves pitter-patter
“Is this for real?” I thought to myself
Could it be? The jolly old elf?
I opened the side door and had a look out
The sleigh that I saw removed any doubt
Across the street, he was making the rounds
Rooftop to rooftop, in leaps and bounds
Then he was gone, but the sleigh still remained
For what happened next, I’ll have to explain
As I turned around, what do you know
Santa Claus himself, the star of the show
Was standing there, grinning, right there by the rig
His eyes glistening, as he looked at the pig
I stammered “S-Santa?!” And he started to snicker
I took a deep breath to calm down my ticker
He was checking it over, no angle undone
And then he said nicely, “Can I hear it run?”
I hated to say it, had no other choice
This problem I had with my Cruisers voice
“I wish that we could, but I’m afraid not tonight.
It’ll turn over, but it simply won’t light.I know it’s ignition, of this I’m sure.
But I’m out of ideas. Do you have a cure?”
He pondered a moment, then scratched his chin.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you jump in?”
I climbed in the 55 as he fiddled around
And he said “Aha! You have a bad ground.
This wire on the coil should be attached here.”
And over he moved it, without any fear.
“Hit it!” he said, his grin growing wide
I pushed in the clutch and let out a sigh
I wiggled the shifter and hit the ol’ key…
And it fired at once. I howled with glee!
The open exhaust is so loud it rattles the walls
Santa yelled over it, “I bet this thing crawls!”
I killed it and jumped out, unable to speak
Santa had fixed it with one little tweak!
“You know about cars?” I finally asked.
“Oh, yes!” he replied. “My veins run with gas.
I work but one night, so with my spare time
I tinker and wrench, it sharpens the mind.
I have a collection that rivals the best
It’s my preferred hobby when I am at rest.”
I shook his hand thank you, we nodded goodbye
And with that he vanished in the blink of an eye.
As I went in to head off to bed,
I thought about everything Santa had said
Turns out he’s a cruiser guy! And oh what fun,
Perhaps you’ll see him – at your next trail Run!
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