Dear Gibson...

You saucy devil. I'm finally done paying for you.

In exchange for the return of your soul from the credit union, will you please lay off the check engine light? I bought you from a dealer, man. I know your repair history. Stop being coy. The guys at Frank's are very nice, but I don't need to visit them quite so much.

But come to think of it—if you're planning any major electric illnesses, do me a favor and cough them up before the end of the year. That's when your extended warranty expires, and it'll take much more than a dashboard light for me to fix your pricey li'l bod then.

You're a young buck with a lot of good years left. Let's not spend them at the Golf hospital when we could be on Highway 1.

Love,
The BCB

p.s. Also: You're the greatest! Turbo still rules, and you're so green and shiny. Don't ever change, except maybe be a little less grumpy. Thanks.