Goodby, ol paint.
It's a little nuts to be sentimental over a piece of metal like a machine. Or an old pickup. But times change and time moves on. What was good once maybe be out of date now for many reasons.
In September of 2001, I bought a new Toyota pickup. In the 17 years that have passed, I've driven that little pickup all over the country Literally coast to coast and back, and From Texas to California and back several times. Last summer I taught my granddaughter, Bree, to drive in it over at the empty roads around the Georgetown airport. At age 9, she's a surprisingly good driver and after a few days of practice has i down pat. Uses turn signals and even backs up better than me.
But of late the projected repair bills look ominous, and I don't relish spending a couple thousand dollars on a 17 year old truck that spent 14 of it's winters in Maryland with all the salt they put on the roads there. Rust, electronic issues, and the evil check engine light that comes with a verified by three different places as expensive repairs are too much. Tomorrow I'm picking a new Toyota Corolla and the mechanic at the Toyota dealer is buying my truck for three grand.
Of late for many reasons, I seem to be feeling my age more. I can only explain it like Bilbo said it to Gandalf in the Lord Of The Rings movie, about feeling like butter that's been scraped over too much bread. Thin. Driving back from spending the holidays in Mission Viejo California with the daughters family, I finally started to want something a little more comfortable and quieter than my little 2002 Tacoma. A smoother ride would nice, and a break from the road noise and a bucket seat that is adjustable rather than the fixed bench seat in my little stripper truck. I was amazed at the technology that they toss in on even a compact like the Corolla. Lane drift alerts, self adjusting cruise control, back up camera, great stereo, emergency braking if I don't notice something. Heck, my old truck doesn't even have cruise control.
I took it on a good test ride up I35 from Round Rock north past Georgetown and back. I guess after all the years of being used to the old Tacoma, I hadn't realized how far compact cars had become in becoming almost as quiet and comfortable as my better half's Camry. I find that the bare bones little truck that I bought back in 2001 no longer gets it for me. I find now I want to be comfortable. Life has moved on to another stage.
It will be very strange that for the first time in 35 years I will not have a pickup truck. I guess I'll have to do the Barton thing.
Barton and Nancy are a couple we were friends with for many years back in Maryland. Bart had inherited the family home down on Virginia's 'Northen neck' a peninsula of land jutting out in the Chesapeake Bay. It was a large two story farm house with a boat dock out back, and some corn field that he leased out to a neighboring farmer. Bart, like some of us was a native Washington D.C area resident and worker bee in the government, with family connections down on the bay. Weekends they would go down to stay over night for fishing, crabbing, some shooting on a makeshift range with a large dirt berm. Very Chesapeake rural. But Bart, being a frugal city type didn't own a pickup truck. He had another solution.
One weekend when Karen and myself had been invited down, we were sitting on the back porch, looking out over the bay when Nancy reminded Bart that the sofa had to be picked up. They had a sofa in town, at an upholster shop being recovered. I lamented that we didn't bring my truck down, but instead had driven down in Karen's Honda Element. Bart said not to worry, he just needed my help to get the sofa back into the house when he got it home. I was curious as to how he was going to go get the sofa in his little Datsun B201. He backs his Datsun up to the side of the barn and hitches up a medium black steel mesh utility trailer and we head to town. The sofa gets tied down on the utility trailer and we go home and put in the blank spot in the living room, and Bart unhitches the tailer and puts it back by the barn. Done.
Bart was one of those Washington intelligence annalists that broke everything down to the basics. If he figured that tool X was good for 98% of the time, then he'd just buy tool X and come up with a solution for the 2% of the time it was inadequate. In many ways he reminded me of my dad and his peanut and .22 caliber Colt woodsman. A minimalist.
I guess now as a fixed income senior citizen, minimalism is even more important now. Gotta stretch those social security dollars, and a small but comfortable car makes more sense at this stage of the game. I guess if I have to haul something that doesn't fit in the car, the utility trailer in the backyard by the shop building will work. And the car will be easier on old bones on a long drive.
unprotected left turn. Replaced it with a Yaris iA, which I hope lasts just as long. I did the math: 99% of my driving is in town. If I need anything bigger, l can rent it.
I asked him if he's trying to be a comedian? 
