Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Guys and Trucks


What is it with guys and trucks? Especially an old beater like a 1970 Ford F250 (much more weathered than the one pictured here)?

I don't care much for the bloated, gas-guzzling, over-priced testosterone-behemoths that masquerade as trucks these days. But this afternoon, I was asked by our transportation coordinator to bring the old 1970 Ford F250 pickup from our soon-to-be-former YWAM facility, and bring it into the new corral with the other tool vans that we use for the Homes of Hope program.

The engine runs a little less smoothly than it did almost 40 years ago. At least, I hope it ran smoother in 1970 than it does in 2009. It certainly took some coaxing to start. It also had a stubborn and petulant predilection towards stalling at every possible opportunity. And the chassis creaked, groaned, and complained a fair bit on the highway.

Twenty bucks US netted me about a quarter tank of gas. The second tank under the box hadn't been used in years.

The AM radio didn't work. The seatbelts were functional but apparently shoulder belts hadn't been invented yet. Nor had head-rests. The back of the seat ended in the middle of my shoulder blades.

The air-conditioner was a brown, boxy contraption bolted at an awkward angle under the dash -- obviously a non-factory item. Technology salvaged from the Titanic would function about as well.

But the manual crank window still performed adequately, albeit somewhat stiffly, and as I chugged down the coast highway -- the Pacific ocean shining an amazing blue in the afternoon sun, and a warm desert wind rushing through the cab -- I found myself unable to stifle the silly grin that repeatedly spread across my face.

(sigh)... Guys and trucks, go figure.