What people love the most in life varies. Some people love their spouse the most, or their children, or their parents, or their pets, and not always in that order. Workaholics may like their jobs and even enjoy their jobs, but do they love their jobs? I doubt it. If you ask me what I love the most in my life, I have to admit (crazy as it sounds coming from a girl) I love my truck. My truck is a dependable workaholic loaded with excitement.
A week after my divorce, I soul-searched for what it was I wanted in my life. I knew I needed something dependable, reliable, and versatile. Where could I find such qualities? I pulled a sweater over my head to keep the autumn chill off me before stepping outdoors to feed the horses. As I entered the barn, I calculated the hay bales and discovered there were not enough bales to last through the winter season. It was then that I decided I needed a truck. I abandoned the barn, got inside my car, and scouted for a new truck. As I drove from one dealership to another, my mind toyed with all the options available. By the time I arrived at the next dealership, I knew what kind of a truck I would take home with me.
"It's a Chevy Z71, half-ton. . ." the dealer was speaking.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever that means." I so rudely interrupted, I am out for good looks and low maintenance." I stared at the black Chevy and for the first time in my life, I felt love-at-first-sight.
My new truck and I have an unspoken agreement: that as long as I feed it fuel and change the oil on a regular basis, it will take me from point A to point B. Of course, I will need to get the tires balanced and rotated, and clean the windshield; but those are occasional things and I can handle those few occasions.
Because my truck is so handsome with its smooth grey leather interior, its rugged black exterior, and its masculine tires, I am not afraid to show it off to my friends. As a bonus, it has all the gadgets that a girl such as me loves to play with, the cell phone holder, cup holder, even a visor with a mirror! I can push buttons and it responds in an instant. If I am too hot, I push this button. If I am too cold, I push that button. It comes with a six-changing CD player and there is no voice complaining about my bad choice in music. It does not even remind me that I am an awful singer.
My truck is a four-wheel drive with a built in GPS system which means I never have to stop to ask for directions as I travel across the United States. Together, my truck and I have weathered all sorts of places, a hailstorm in Kansas, a tornado in Chicago, and a blizzard in Montana. My truck has carried me through some scary situations, the deep sandy beaches of Florida, the steep grades of Arizona, Utah and Colorado. We have even made it through the swamp marshes of Louisiana and Mississippi, along with the ice-covered roads of Minnesota. I love my truck.
One of the best qualities my truck has is that it is a workaholic. It hauls my hay bales from the open fields to the barn, it hauls my horse trailer from the driveway to the rodeos, and it hauls my boat from the backyard to the lake. My truck even hauls my other rides, like my ten-speed bicycle, my four-wheeler, or my motorcycle, without getting jealous. My truck carries my toolbox and helps me stretch a barbed-wire fence; it pulls my friends out of ditches, and takes my trash to town. It does all these without griping about having to do the chores on my Honey-Do list. I have even put a plow on the front end of my truck to help it push my way through the snow. Another great feature about my Chevy truck is that it waits patiently while I spend hours shopping and then it is gentleman enough to carry my bags home for me. If ever I step out of the store and forget where I parked, I can push my truck's panic button and it will honk and flash the lights until I discover its location. Once I am inside my truck with all its safety features, I feel so secure.
I love my truck! It is exciting, entertaining and enjoyable. My Chevy truck does not leave me home alone on a Saturday night, it does not mind waiting for me while I finish getting ready, and it even enjoys the girls night out. I can drop the tailgate and party anywhere, sporting events, theme parks, and rock concerts. If I get too sleepy to drive home, my truck doubles as a hotel. I can sleep in the bed with my sleeping bag; I can put on a camper; or I can pull a motor home.
My truck takes me on adventures: fly fishing in Utah, white water rafting in Colorado, and ice fishing in North Dakota. After spending a weekend playing in the mud, I can take my truck through the automatic car wash without it griping about how the sign is not politically correct. After all, the sign should read, "Automatic Vehicle Wash".
When the cash-for-clunkers program was in effect, my brother telephoned me to inform me my truck would qualify. He insisted that I should check into it. I was outraged! I mean, I moved away from my parents, I divorced my husband, my boys are in college, and my pets ran away. I have discovered that I can live without all of them, but give up my truck? I do not think so. I love my truck!
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