ok, it IS Friday somewhere. right now, it's still Friday where i am.
and i happened to be reading through a book that was given me when i
retired ...
Good Poems for Hard Times (poems selected by Garrison Keilor ... the
goofy looking guy from Lake Woebegone on NPR). ;) and i found this
poem. not written by me, so all you mealy-mouthed critics can relax
... this is by a real makes-his-living-by-writing-poems poet. ;)

anyway, the tone and subject fit in with vanagons, and especially
those who have swapped engines. ;) and super especially those who have
lived through northeast winters with vanagons that had their engines
swapped. or anybody who has lived through a northern winter. ;)

unca joel

 Starting the Subaru at Five Below
       Stuart  Kestenbaum

 After 6 Maine winters and 100,000 miles,
 when I take it to be inspected

 I search for gas stations where they
 just say beep the horn and don't ask me to

 put it on the lift, exposing its soft
 rusted underbelly.  Inside is the record

 of commuting:  apple cores, a bag from
 McDonald's, crushed Dunkin' Donuts cups,

 a flashlight that doesn't work and one
 that does, gas receipts blurred beyond

 recognition.  Finger tips numb, nose
 hair frozen, I pump the accelerator

 and turn the key.  The battery cranks,
 the engine gives 2 or 3 low groans and

 starts.  My God it starts.  And unlike
 my family in the house, the job I'm

 headed towards, the poems in my briefcase,
 the dreams I had last night, there is

 no question about what makes sense.
 White exhaust billowing from the tail pipe,

 heater blowing, this car is going to
 move me, it's going to take me places.