Grandad Got the 8-Track

The filtered gun metal light
bleeding through
the low hanging clouds
and the smell
that carries the threat
of freezing rain
or snow
reminded me
of my grandad
this morning.
I remember sitting uncomfortably
in his battered Chevy truck
as we wound our way
through thick forests
dripping with runoff
to Spirit Lake.
Early morning trout fishing.
The smell of gas
permiated the cab
everytime he struggled with
the manual choke.
"I got the 8-track now, Scottie.
There's a bunch of 'em
in the glove compartment.
Put one in."
Yeah, there they are.
Looks like he joined
one of those clubs.
20 hit records for just a penny!
Columbus House.
Hmmmm, let's see.
Dolly Parton (of course).
Flatt and Scruggs (maybe).
Jim Nabors (??!!).
Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass (most likely).
Wait a minute.
Aerosmith, Rocks...
Hey grandad,
What the hell is this?
"Oh, I figured I'd get
something you kids might
wanna hear.
It says 'rock' on it,
right?"
Yeah, it does grandad
and yeah, it do...