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My Mechanic – The 80s Archives

Remember when I threatened, err, I mean, mentioned that I might post some of my 1980s flashback poetry?  Well…..  I’m starting out with this gem about a mechanic.  How about those old cars, anyway?  My first one was a Pontiac Trans-Am, sleek, gold with a giant bird on the hood.  My second car was an elegant blue Buick Regal with crushed velvet blue seats.  There may have been some things wrong with the 1980s, but it wouldn’t be the cars and music!

Also, I have to mention that many of my readers have become truly fond of Aunt Agnes, one of my main characters.  I don’t know how to tell you guys, but Aunt Agnes is totally fictional.  She is a combination of many hometown women whom I have known, including some that I might also be related to.  Don’t feel bad, sometimes I forget she is fiction also.  Another character that I get a lot of feedback on is Greg Taylor.  He is a fictionalized version of umm, a certain real-life person (but I might deny that if it has to go on record) LOL.  The Blue Man is obviously fictional, I’ve never met a blue man, but who knows, maybe they are out there?  I did write a poem about an alien guy who gets trapped in someone’s backyard at night and has to sleep in the dog house, but it appears that I’ve lost it, so get ready to feast your eyes on this wonderful piece of 1980s literature.

My Mechanic

His mind intact

and hard at work

He works among

the grime and dirt

To find the part

that hinders the pulse

Of my auto

when in full thrust

A great philosopher

of auto parts

He knows just what

goes in there

With hair flying back

and tools left and right

He stays all day

and on through the night

To find what ails

my failing motor

To be the doctor

that finds the cure

Though he’s buried deep

under my hood

The noises still come

from where he stood

But I just hope

it doesn’t swallow

For I’m afraid

I could not follow

Alright, so in the comments, can this poem be saved?

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  1. I’d like to see what you do with it now ………. And I particularly liked this bit

    He works among

    the grime and dirt

    To find the part

    that hinders the pulse

    Of my auto

  2. A gold Pontiac Trans Am. Wowza! That’s the 80’s. And I knew Aunt Agnes was fictional, but then again, she’s not. That’s part of the wonder of writing, Lana – these people take on lives of their own. The poem has some great visuals and it’s a wonderful scene. This poem can be saved. 🙂

    • Ah, thank you so much, Diana. It is kinda fun to look back at the content and the language, a bit of history revealed. I may, at some time, rework it, but still keep the original. Thanks again! 😀

  3. Of course, this poem can be saved!! That said, you had a Trans-Am?? Gee, color me pea-green. I remember those cars, and they were awesome!

    Okay, back to the poem. Auto mechanics has changed so much since the ’80s. Now everything is computer-driven, which kind of dates your verse. Still, the images you’ve conveyed feel real to me, perhaps because I can really relate to the times in which they were written.

    • Yes, that is quite true, I think we can relate to it sorta like boom boxes, so it doesn’t seem strange. Oh the sports car, yeah, it was rather cool. Ironically, I think I liked the Buick Regal and the blue crushed velvet seats better, LOL. Now I drive a Toyota Corolla, so nobody is green with envy, ha ha! Thanks for the input and kinds words, Debbie. Happy writing!

  4. ooh Lana bring back those days, I love them. 80’s, I was just a young lass, but still remember Toyota Corolla and you reminded me a type of car we had back on the islands, they called them “Juke Box”, it was a made of wood, and the two doors were at the back of the car haha. I remember there was a man the kids called him “papa lion” because he was a very rude and strange man. He would go to the kids house and tell their parents that their kids called him that name. He had a juke box too. I love your stories Lana, it brings back very funny memories that have been kept and stored away in the brain. hahahah LOL. I really enjoyed your poem. Bring back some more! I am shocked that Aunt Agnes was not real as well as Greg Taylor, but never mind, I still love both of your characters, please keep them going in your stories, would love to read anything about them. Thank you Lana for all your great posts. Have a wonderful weekend!

    • Oh Juli, I so loved the 80s too. I was a young lass right along with you, ha ha. It was such a fun time, and it seemed to go so fast. I see from your post that you likewise have some good 80s stories. That Papa Lion guy sounds like a great subject for you to write about. I’m so glad you like my stories and poems, it is truly the readers that I have that keep me going, writing is such a subjective and fickle business. It is so good to escape sometimes, though. I know that many people did think Aunt Agnes was real, but as another reader mentioned, she comes alive for the while that she has a story, and maybe I can come up with several about her. I really like her too, LOL. Greg Taylor is another one, for sure. Have a super weekend and a creative week ahead, Juli!

      • hahaha Lana, without us meeting at blogging, some of my stories wouldn’t have come out of my filing brain. Yes Papa Lion even lived in a house made of stone. That house belonged to my grandmother, and my aunty lived in it for some years. And that aunty of mine she was a witch, a very crooked one. She sold the house to papa lion. I think I really have a big great story to write. and my witchy aunty did not pass away peacefully. Like you said, my story could end up being a great one, I must put pen to paper and see how my story can unfold. But that will be in the New 2018. I will try hard to make it my first story after New Year, I don’t promise, but somehow it will come out. Thank you Lana, have a great weekend!

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