Auto & Truck of Mayberry

The summer I graduated high school
I worked for the mechanics in my hometown
running parts
changing oil.
I learned how to rebuild the bearing assembly
on semi trailer wheels
in a sweltering gravel lot
and spruced up the big yellow buses
from the vocational school
so they could pass safety inspection from the county.
Spray-on undercoating
and new seat covers
to replace the ones my classmates had carved their initials into.
They sent me to distant parts warehouses
in a salvaged S-10
with powdering paint
and a failing rear end.
I hauled Peterbilt radiators
the size of armchairs
and mufflers the size of acetylene tanks.
I fetched lunch from the Frisch's over in the next town
and swept the floor
when there was nothing else to do.

One day Chuck
who used to run the Sohio on Main Street
(until they got bought out by BP)
brought in his workvan for a service.
Roger Ettlinger
who was the boss's brother
backed it right up into the steel beam
of the rack he had intended to put it on.
The ass end of the van was crushed.
I swept shattered safety glass silently
while furious Rog' fumed and swore.
'Goddammit! I got so much on my mind
I can't fuckin' pay attention fer shit!"
He was a deeply troubled man
going through a divorce
unhappy in his career.
And now that I am in similar circumstances,
getting divorced and all the rest,
I truly understand how that kinda shit can happen.