I’m not impressed by new cars

Bigger, bigger, bigger

Like everything, goes the standard

Four tires and a frame

Shiny screens, Bluetooth, electric, they’re all the same

I rented the smallest one I could this week while my truck was in the shop

Experimenting before buying one new

A peppy white car, 90,000 miles, 2022

Sleek and round like a gum drop

I stepped down into it, like a coffin into the ground

Black plastic all around

70 miles an hour on the interstate

Weaving around all the trucks and SUVs

Trying to dodge fate

Journey on the radio

In my Spark and Florida plates, I was incognito

I felt so vulnerable

The seats didn’t fold right so my pup couldn’t stick his head out the window

A tragedy

At work, I parked next to the Lexus and the Range Rover

No one at the office even recognized me

My boss called me in, gave me a bonus and a raise

Told me, “Working hard pays”

It was more than I expected

I got into that little car and drove home

Shooting through traffic like a sling and a stone

The shop called and said my truck was ready

Nine-hundred dollars in repairs

I couldn’t wait to get there

I parked the rental on the side

Walked inside the shop

As soon as I looked out the window a dump truck ran right into that tiny car

It was crunched up in pieces

The timing of it all, how bizarre

Finally got my old truck back

I climbed up into it like a squirrel in a tree

Touched the rugged steering wheel and seats, all me

Up high, red, 2000, 200,000 miles

Windows down, pup in the extended cab with snout out

The ritzy rental cars didn’t beguile

After the bonus, my account was lush

Back in my old truck, with my pup – no rush

Thought we needed a new car

But back in the old one repaired, here we are

No screens or fancy buttons, no payments

Slow on the interstate

Taking our time is great

The wind and traffic – our music

The bumps and torn seats, we’re used to it

Think we’ll keep my bonus and truck

Head to the beach

Enjoy our luck