"I need a big truck to carry around my small penis"
A rest day and a drive day... This means a chance to sleep in, make a breakfast—and sit down to savor it at the table. Callie and I play throw the ball while I put a few changes of clothes in the car to leave at the office.
At the café where I drop by for an Americano, this guy pulls up in the above pictured monstrosity, a Ford 350 King Ranch. It was even more sooped-up with huge off road tires—so it looked like Mega Tron or something like that, right out a Hollywood fantasy.
This truck was immaculate—showroom condition and appearance. The huge off-road tires showed no wear. This isn’t a working man’s truck—this is a Libido Truck.
Yeah, you see women driving the Suburbans and the other SUVs, with a cell phone stuck to their jowl and God knows what else up their ass—this fellow’s truck was excessive pure and simple. You would think that someone who has an expensive truck like this has money to throw away; my feeling is that this guy can’t really afford it.
Big trucks like this where I was from back in Oklahoma and South Dakota where for work. Hard work—they carried heavy tools and equipment. Most often they were covered in mud and dirt, and beat to hell because of the nature of the work and where the work was done. Farmers and ranchers and people who lived in rural areas had trucks of this size, but they always had a town car. They would never drive these big trucks around in town to pick up cigarettes, milk, bread and beer—it would be wasteful.
Yuppies do the same type of thing—buying four-wheel-drive jeeps equipped with AC, leather seats, and stereo systems worth more than my modest automobile. To really use said Jeep as an off-road vehicle would mean dirt, dings, and dents. You couldn’t take a hose and rinse the mud out of the floor boards like I could do when I owned pick-up trucks.
I see Mexican men driving around the city in big trucks, but they are work trucks and you can tell. The work is hard and trucks carry the tools and gear. Guys that drive a King Ranch probably do very little work.
The reality and fantasy of this country makes me want to puke at times.
"Get to work, Mexican Labor Force! The American Consumer Demands It!"
3 comments:
Those overgrown testosterone substitutes become even more galling when you're "sharing" the road with them. It's an affront to them that you and your puny bike are keeping them from using up even more gas by limiting their speed. Hold your line Bruce!
Sal
Amen Brother. Gone are the simple rugged trucks of the past with the durable seats and the floor coverings designed to get dirty and easy to clean. Gone is the truck in it's simpleness just designed to do it's job and do it well. You just can't buy a simple work truck anymore. Instead we are offered giant hunky wastes of steel with a thousand options that have no business being anywhere near where someone is actually "working" or hauling. They are pansy trucks designed to look like bulldozers. Unfortunately the people who buy them don't fancy themselves the pansies for who they really are. :)
Dead on.
The scary thought comes from the last photo: put a badge of some sort and a gun in the hands of an insecure pansy and you've got trouble for all citizens.
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