Driving to town for groceries - for supplies, like Ma and Pa Ingalls - can be entertaining. I had to pick up pre-ordered groceries, fill the gas tank, refill the drinking water jugs, and get a flat white at Starbucks. Sometimes I have to go to the post office, just like the old-timey days. I also have to make the heavy duty supply run for giant bags of dog food, 50 pound bags of horse feed, sometimes for salt block, and sometimes for bags of water softener salt (whenever I realize I haven't put salt in the bin for awhile). That is a lot of running around all over Topeka, or sometimes Manhattan. Going to town can be a little adventure, even a bit entertaining.
Yesterday I noticed an old 90's Ford Ranger truck. It was brightly painted metallic lime green - with a deep red junkyard replacement tailgate. One end of the rear bumper was still bent and wonky. The little-engine-that-could was smoking just a tad, and it sounded as if the exhaust system needed some work, but it was rolling on down the road like a brand new $75,000 Ford Truck, thank you very much!
Those small Ford Rangers were GREAT trucks! I had two, each driven off the lot with less than 50 miles on the odometer. Both were still running when I sold them with very high mileage. The second one had close to 275,000 miles on it, I think. I hated to see the new owner drive it away. Seeing the little green Ranger still chugging along, dutifully fulfilling its engineered destiny as reliable American transportation, made me smile. I fondly recall my Rangers. And, now that I have traded in the old car that doubled as a farm truck, I need a truck.
The Ranger's color scheme was the key to this little adventure. It reminded me of another vehicle I once owned and loved - a Volkswagen Beetle. Its red paint was deeply oxidized, and it had junkyard replacement lime green doors! Someone had put a Native American beadwork design decal on the bottom of both doors. It was the hippie mobile. Seeing the same color scheme on the Ranger reminded me, and I was grinning like an idiot. I resolved to say something to the driver if we came to a red light together. I wanted to know how long he'd had his truck and if he loved it. I was even thinking of asking if he would sell it, but he eventually changed lanes ahead of me, ending that silly idea.
Sometimes even the Universe is curious where such impulses might lead! The truck pulled into a Subway drive-through. Since the traffic was very light, and I was in no hurry, and yeah, I had been stalking the guy for several miles, I impulsively pulled into Subway, too. There was room to pull up beside the little green Ranger. The poor guy driving looked over at me, wondering what level of crazy might be grinning at him through the window. I motioned for him to roll his window down. He started to then shrugged his shoulders as if to say he couldn't. (I know for a fact a big ol' guy like that could have easily reached to roll down the window because I could do that in my Rangers.) We are teetering on total anarchy right now, so I do not blame him. I just cupped my hands and yelled, "I love your truck!"
I drove away, smiling to myself when I regretfully thought, what if he did not realize I was goddamned serious about that? Then I thought, he owns a Ford Ranger. He understands.
Later the same morning, I noticed a personalized license plate that read: BRATIT. I am aware that my mind is not the tightly wound, well oiled thinking-machine it once was. The wiring seems to have loosened a bit. There is some play in the connections, allowing for thought processes that are not entirely reliable. I said out loud, to myself, "What a dumbass! Bra Tit? Really, you adolescent boy?"
Sad to say, I thought about this for more than a few miles on the drive home, being mildly scandalized by it. (As if I have nothing better to worry about!) It finally came to me that they most likely meant "Brought It", as in "I brought the Heat!" Also rather "adolescent boy", especially on a totally non-hot rod truck with Grandpa Farmer vibes, but still better and far more understandable than BRA TIT.
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