Tell me about your truck and I’ll tell you about mine.
I’ll go first and then it is your turn. Share in the comments, via email, or post a picture of your truck on Facebook (here I am). We want to see your truck, real or fantasy!
I wrote about Elvis, my truck, in the latest issue of maryjanesfarm magazine, on newsstands now. (Buy a copy if you haven’t! Or better yet, subscribe and get it delivered to your mailbox!) There is a reason you didn’t see a picture of Elvis accompanying the story. I think it really boils down to this: love is blind.
First let me tell you how Elvis came to be mine-all-mine.
One block from the courthouse where I worked in 1991 or so, and right beside the Dairy Queen, was a used car lot.
I walked by it every time I walked to the DQ. And during this particular time in my life I had a strong affinity for (possibly addicted to) “Mr. Misty Floats.” These were an icee/slushee-like concoction, with a big dollop of DQ soft serve ice cream in the middle. My favorite flavors were grape and blue raspberry. (The DQ quit serving Mr. Mistys a while back.)
Here ya go. I found an old photo of a DQ poster. The Mr. Misty Float is the red one on the right. Man, those were good.
Anyway. There were a lot of late afternoon walks to DQ from my office.
One day, during that walk, what do I spy in the used car lot?
A fun truck.
Yep, dark blue, all jacked up with over-sized tires, spot lights on the top, and the words “hard body” on the side, with a sport stripe. The owner/salesperson was outside as I walked by, so I hollered something like “Cool truck!”
And he hollered back, “Come take it for a spin!”
And next thing I know my feet were walking me right over there to that fun blue truck instead of on down the sidewalk to the DQ. (My feet are wild hairs, taking me places that I’m not quite ready for.)
Buying a new car was the farthest thing from my mind. I was not even considering it. No need. My car was fine. And purchasing a truck is something that never EVER crossed my mind.
But there I was. In the used car lot beside the DQ, talking to Doug, the owner, about this fun truck. He asked if I could drive a stick, handed me the key, and told me to take it for a ride. And I did. I waved good-bye to Doug and went on a real live joy ride.
The truck and I bonded right away.
I told him he was handsome, and he told me I looked good behind the wheel. I complimented his gitty-up, he complimented mine. Something about this truck made me smile.
When I brought it back to Doug, he said, “Let’s make a deal. What do you have to trade in?”
I said, “Oh, no, no, no, no, no. It’s a nice truck, but I don’t need to buy a car right now, much less a truck.” And the next thing I know, in the very next breath, I was giving him the year and make of my little sports car. (My mouth is a wild hair too, getting me involved in things I haven’t even thought through.)
So I went home that night and told my hubs about the jacked-up blue truck with spot lights on the top and the words “hard body” on the side, with that sports stripe. “I’m about to buy it, I love it so much,” I told him.
Laughter. Confusion. Shock. More confusion.
My Hubs is a Mercedes kind of man. (The story of the Mouse and the Mercedes is here, if you missed it.) For me, his wife, to actually want to purchase AND DRIVE a vehicle like I had just described to him was beyond his comprehension. It didn’t make any sense. He thought I had lost my mind.
But I convinced him that I did, indeed, want THAT truck in all its glory. I asked him to go with me to see it. So we went.
It is no exaggeration to say that when he got out of our car and saw THAT truck, his mouth dropped open. He was very surprised, even though I had accurately described it to him the night before.
I remember this as though it was yesterday. I can picture his surprised face and his initial speechlessness.
Then, when he found words, he asked me, “What would you do with THAT?!”
And I recall exactly what I said, confidently and strong: “Haul things.”
Don’t ask me what I intended to haul. I could not have answered that at the time. But, let me tell you what. I have hauled SOME THINGS in that truck over the last 20 years. Seriously hauled SOME THINGS that needed to be hauled. But I was a lawyer, for goodness sake, what did I intend to haul?? I couldn’t tell you.
So when he asked, “What things?!” I just smiled real big, and said, “Just all kinds of things…you know, this and that….and the other…..”
I’m laughing now just thinking about it. But truly, with no good reason to be found or had, I traded in my Mazda RX7 and bought THAT truck.
And it’s been a blast ever since.
You know what? I can’t drive that truck without somebody wanting to buy it off me. Nope, no way, not for sale. Maybe I should a sign in the windshield “Nope, No Way, Not For Sale.”
Funny. A few years back, an older woman rang my door bell. “Can I borrow your workers for a minute?” she said, “I’d like to talk to them about a project at my house.”
Befuddled, I say, “Workers? What workers? There aren’t any workers here.”
She points to my truck in the driveway and says, “Are they at lunch?”
I understood then. “Oh, no, m’am, that’s MY truck, not workers.”
She apologized for her mistake, walked sheepishly to her Jaguar (no lie, it was a Jag!), and drove away.
So, it you pictured Elvis as a classic, old Ford or Chevrolet, that’s not quite right. I’m here to set the record straight, keeping it real. Here is Elvis, my beloved truck and long-time friend.
Oh, and you can even see that faded yellow stuffed smiley face on the dash that I mentioned in the column. See there? Doesn’t it just make you want to go for a ride?
I’ve always told my daughter that she could have Elvis when she turned 16. She thought that was cool until she turned 10 or so. But now, I think she fears it. She wonders if I’m kidding or not. (I am. Nobody can have my truck!)
So, he may not be the most handsome thing to look at, but we have good times in my truck. We roll down the windows, turn up the crackly radio, and haul things. All kinds of things.
Now tell us about your truck (or dream truck!)
Until next time, Friends, savor the flavor of life!
Lots of love, The City Farmgirl, Rebekah
I love this story…will have to say in this family I am the BMW girl and my husband is the Toyota truck four-wheeling guy! Crazy too but great match! Have many more fun miles drivin’ n smilin’….
Honestly, when my husband first brought our truck home (he had purchased it online and drove from Missouri to Texas to get it!) it was in need of a little work but the minute I laid eyes on it I had a ‘crush’ on that truck! It was so big and powerful looking with it’s lights across the top and the big beefy cattle guard, custom made, across the front. I feel so special and protected in that big beast, lol. I understand your feelings for ‘Elvis’.
I love this story!!! I laughed all the way through, you are brave, my little white GM sunfire with dual exhaust larger engine and a sunroof would be so upset if I traded her in. (her name is Finn) but I’m looking at trucks all the time around the farm and one day, I’ll just HAVE to have one to haul things too! Good for you for finding your Elvis 🙂 Nancy.
I totally love your story – and I for sure know Elvis would be so pleased to have ‘THAT’ truck given his name. My truck – 54 Ford – red – not jacked up – just plain n simple – except that it would have the power of the ‘hard body’ – just think what fun to go out on the dirt roads and RIDE (Sally) RIDE. Thanks for another great posting.
Love this story!!!!! I am dreaming of my dream truck right now, but I will have it soon, soon, soon! I do Haul Things too in my 4 Runner now, so I know I will get good use out of my truck when I find it:) Thanks for sharing!
The love of my life was George.He was named after the Bugs Bunny line "I will love him and hug him and call him George." He was a Chevy Silverado, white with pale blue trim. He had over three hundred thousand miles when he finally died. We sold him for parts. A young guy bought him, used his body and the guts of another Silverado to make a complete truck. I still see George around town.
This is just great. Thanks for the laughs. Love Elvis. I am going to have to look for a pic of my old truck, a 1956 Chevy, color…Primer Grey/Bondo….I loved him and we worked on him for a while, almost wrecked him a few times, dang old brakes. But we had fun with him, then of course, life happens when your kids are little and we needed cash. Bye Bye, Dream Truck. He became the dream of someone else but I still think of him often:)…….Raynita
1970 ford bronco. Red body with white removable hard top. She’s lifted 7" or so and has a full roll cage for when we’re feeling crazy…
Husband and I have been building it for the last 5 years. We’ve put in a manual tranny, did the lift ourselves, put in a new 351… Now we just need to get the new axles our of the garage and actually under her, then we’ll be set for a good long while, able to just enjoy Flirtin with Disaster (her name, we rolled our first one on black ice)
I drive my Dad’s old truck all the time. It is a 1986 tan Maxda B2000. He passed away in 2001 and I love the connection with him. People stop by the house all the time & want to buy it.
Don’t have a truck. Have wanted one in the past but right now I have just bought a newer something, not sure what you call it. It is not a mini van (think goodness) and not a SUV I think you call it a cross-over but it will sit all seven of my grands, but no other adults….Not sure if that is good or not. I have owned a jeep and I loved to drive it. Probably as much as you love to drive your truck. Keep on hauling the stuff you need to haul. Because I expect the hauling is going to be more frequent since you acquired your farm.
July 4, 2007, was unusually wet. It had been raining since June 1st and had not stopped. And, no, I do not live in Oregon. I live in Texas.
I was living with my parents at the time, I didn’t drive (I was 27, but had basically a big girl’s permit. That is a long story I won’t get into). Daddy got up that morning and walked into the dining room, and said "I was thinking we could go to Henna and see if they have your truck there.". It confounded me, since I’d had the exact same thought, but didn’t tell anyone. What else was there to do? I was about to get my license, I had no vehicle, and it was raining. Still. All… day… long.
So, Momma and Daddy and I lazed around for a while, then piled into Momma’s Tahoe to go see the folks at the Chevrolet dealership and see about getting me a Trailblazer. Now, everyone argues with me up and down that Tahoes and Trailblazers are SUVs. I grew up riding in a big, steel bodied Chevy K5 Blazer and it was a TRUCK. SUV is a modern word that is strictly forbidden in my vocabulary.
I wanted a Trailblazer after sitting in my best friend’s truck. It wasn’t as big as my mother’s Tahoe, but still big enough. I could haul stuff (and as Rebekah says, what kind of stuff, I didn’t know) and I wasn’t sitting in Austin traffic, looking at the undercarriage of the Freightliner next to me. I felt safe.
So, they found one on the lot that was a lease vehicle, less than a year old with 1800 miles. I immediately hated it. The body style had changed. The driver’s side dash looked like a cockpit. I didn’t even want to drive it! I was afraid of it! So, I made Daddy do the test drive. He tried to convince me that it was okay, but he finally realized, I am his daughter, and I don’t need all the fancy buttons. The buttons cost 2000 extra dollars I couldn’t afford, anyway.
So, the salesman drove around the lot and finally found one that had JUST been taken off the truck and wasn’t even in inventory. He swung around front like a bat out of Hell…. in a GREEN Trailblazer.
"It’s… green," said Daddy with a sour expression. He had a thing about green vehicles… a racecar driver had been killed in one in the 1970s, and apparently green was unlucky. I had heard this my ENTIRE life, and my very first vehicle was going to be green.
"I don’t care, I like it, let’s go!" and headed for the passenger side. Well, that irked Daddy who pulled over at one point and MADE me drive it. I just knew I was going to destroy this truck.
Then… I hit the accelorator. VROOM!!!
"What just happened??" I exclaimed.
"It’s just because it’s an inline 6. This engine has a lot of torque, so it’s going to get away from you if you’re not careful."
He saw the smile on my face and the gleam in my eye.
"I don’t want to catch you racing around in this thing," he made clear, knowing I wasn’t going to listen. He started laughing when I said "Okay", because he knew I didn’t mean it.
A couple of hours later, we signed the paperwork and the dealership told me they had to inspect and detail it before I could take it home, so the next day, we went back and picked up Fred. I drove to and from work (with someone in the vehicle) until a month later, and I got my license. I even parallell parked for the very first time in that truck, and I aced it.
Sadly, a couple of weeks after that, my father had a heart attack. For a week and a half, I drove Fred alone, taking care of house hold things while he lay in ICU, holding on while we planned for the inevitable. He passed away two months to the day after we bought that truck.
I was only working part time, it was my first big installment loan, and Daddy had the foresight as my cosigner to buy Credit Life insurance. Two and a half months after we signed our loan docs, Fred was paid in full.
I still drive Fred, and some times I go too fast. My fiance’s family marveled that I made it from Lubbock to Oklahoma as fast as I did… little did they know, I was going 90 most of the way through the panhandle. He’s taken me through mountains, plains, mud, checkpoints at Ft Hood (I got lost SEVERAL times) and even a haboob that made national news in Lubbock.
Even if I get a newer vehicle some day, Fred stays with me. I was the one making my payments, but with the Credit Life paying off the note when my father died, I consider Fred to be the last thing my father bought for me – I treasure him.
And it’s a fun little secret between us Trailblazers… that Straight 6 gets us ALL in a little trouble from time to time!
My dream truck is either aqua or pink and it’s a 1950’s something…and now…I want a camper to match! And I think I’d look cool in my truck going to the farmers market hauling cut flowers and honey from my bees.
About the shirt….I’m going to buy my Shug and I matching t-shirts that say, "WE DON’T KNOW WHEN WE ARE MOVING IN. DON’T ASK!"
Cindy Bee
My first vehicle was an 87 F-150. I named him Wild Willy. He was green and yellow, but soon changed to primer gray. He was missing his tailgate, but I made up for it by putting a got milk sticker on the back. I got a lot of strange looks pulling into the school parking lot each morning. I went to the "rich kid" school in the county. I was the only farm kid in my graduating class, and the ONLY girl who drove a truck. There were 4 other fancy, new trucks at school, all driven by boys. I never got grief for my truck (besides the looks), I got a reputation for being tough despite being small. I still have Willy, he’s blue now to match the Harvestore silos, but he sits around these days. I like to think I’m still tough in my SUV with two little girls in the back now. Thanks for the story!
I love this story. I, too, have a truck after being talked into cars and minivan’s most of my adult life. My truck is a 4 door Ford Sporttrak. A chick’s truck. Right now it’s hauling a bale of hay for my backyard chickens. During the day it hauls me to and from work as a paralegal in a law firm….(O:
My truck is my truck and my dh is constantly trying to talk me into trading it in for something newer, better, etc…but I just can’t think of doing that. It’s been the best vehicle I’ve ever owned.
When I bought it, my dh and I were actually shopping around for him a new car. Then, as we were perusing the vehicles in one car lot, a sight from across the highway drew our attention. A beautiful forest green Ford begging for me to come and take it for a test drive. That was all she wrote. It came home with me that day and has been my faithful friend ever since.
Now my dh on the other hand, loves his luxury vehicle. Although he’s owned trucks (still does), he truly prefers his car.
Thanks for letting me share!
Wonderful post on Elvis. For some reason, I just haven’t ever wanted to give my truck a name. Nothing ever stands out about it to create a name for her.
Debbie..,(O:
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Never seen a betetr post!