middleblog-a suburban babble brook book

An Aside: "Shitbox Dodge"

    Today, I concluded quite firmly that Dodge is the truck for me.  My fiancee has a fleet of shitbox Dodges.  Due in part to his driving (the sort of doddering erratic driver your father warns you about and driving schools dread), combined with the general...unkempt condition of the vehicles, I am tempted to paint bumper stickers and slogans on their tailgates.  "Dodge-Sound Advice" or "Dodge:Not Just a Name, a Piece of Advice".  I have witnessed terrible acts perpetrated on these vehicles, wanton disregard for common auto sense, fiendish abuse visited upon them.  In one of my drunken fits, I wreaked unholy havoc on the front end of the Ram Charger LE we were in today that so solidly convinced me of the basic soundness of this make, and I have been known to drub soundly on the dashboard if the mute beast doesn't shift to my liking.  Until today, the Charger was known as the "4 X 4", but I have christened that sturdy, trustworthy beast "Dolly", a current (personal) events joke that pleasantly coincided with the abbreviation "DOdge Ram LE".  Oh, she's a trusty, that car, she has lovely gremlins.  She's full of that old fashioned character of the true working man, who limps gamely into a day's haul despite the hanging trim and the dangling light. She still shifts smooth as butter, rides high and mighty like a sleek dinosaur, roaring down the highway.  So, her rocker panels are rusted through, so the passenger seat has a broken back one needs to prop up, a trick seat liable to cast you out round a stiff curve.  So the ignition has been raped out of the column, so you use a strong thumb to turn it on, and a chunk of steel bar to turn it off.  So the front end looks like the beginning of the demise of the sacrificial shitbox in a b-grade horror movie.  Dolly sat, tires slowly deflating, getting overladen with sundry assorted books and stuff for months, suffering further assault by a drunken sailor navigating a front end loader, then started right on up after a short charge. So?
   
    So today my beloved and I climbed aboard the noble steed and set off down the road. "What's that noise?" I queried, head acock.  My heart dutifully pulled over and walked about inspecting things, climbed in and reported nary amiss.  So off we rattle and roll down the highway.  50, 60 miles an hour we're scootin' when we hear a small metallic "ting!".  What's that, we wonder, as we begin to take an exit, when *BOOM!* the driver's front quarter develops an unhealthy list. The tire spins merrily on down the highway.  We grind and spark our way about 1/4 mile down the road, finally stopping at a conveniently located dirt lot.  My passion fetches our errant tire from the highway, we remount it, and drive mighty Dolly, that American Amazon, back home. 

All Hail the Mighty Dodge!