Nat and Laverne

It wasn’t just any Miami vacation,
It took a whole lifetime to earn…
Thirty-five years of Fuller Brush Sales,
And it’s off for Nat and Laverne.
A wardrobe of furs, plaid pants and sunglasses
All crammed in the Crown Victoria.
Last farewells to the snowstorms, grandkids and the house,
And all the Gentiles in Peoria.
Down memory lane they took Route 66,
Unaware that the world had changed.
The towns were all by-passed, the stores were all closed,
With millions of lives rearranged.
Dazed and bewildered, they searched for a motel
The kind with a vibrating bed.
Only to find a boarded-up house,
Near a sign that said "Dead end ahead".
Nat and Laverne were lost in America,
No one would see her furs now!
Just them and the Crown Victoria
With the exception of one lonely cow.
Laverne pinched her cheeks and smeared on some rouge,
You still must look good when lost.
She thought to herself they should have flown,
But hooey vey, such a cost.
They threw all the furs, make-up and sunglasses
Into a fast reverse.
Silent till now, Laverne started complaining,
"Too much sitting makes cellulite worse"!
Nat thought about the last thirty-five years… Of constantly trying to please her,
Now lost in a country he no longer knew,
And certain he could not appease her.
He looked at the ghost town and thought of his life,
Oh, how he hated that job!
Thrown out and useless like Route 66
And Laverne wouldn’t like him to sob.
Back on the highway, Nat gathered up speed.
The speedometer said sixty-five.
He slowly reached down and pulled open the door,
The last time Laverne saw him alive.
She pinched on her cheeks and smeared on some rouge,
As the car neared an unkempt park.
"Jesus Christ, what gave him the right?"
As her lipstick rubbed off on tree bark.