Two White Trucks
My husband’s job as a counselor has taken him out of town for trainings on two occasions recently. He takes my car – a black Honda CRV with the license plate that says L3T IT B – because it gets better gas mileage and is more comfortable on long trips than either of his trucks.
Enter the 2 white trucks that I’m left to drive when my husband has my car. I call them “The Odd Couple” and I wouldn’t want to be married to either one.
The older one is small. It doesn’t tend to start the first time you try. The driver’s door doesn’t close all the way and the whole vehicle rattles when you drive it. The other is a big rig for hauling our camper. It’s newer and reliable, but because it’s diesel, it’s smelly and loud, and not a bargain to fill up with gas anymore. One has no power steering and is like riding a wild bull, trying to get it to go where you want. In the other, the steering is loose, so loose that I feel I’m ice skating on gravel, up and down the back roads.
There is no lesser of two evils when I’m forced to choose which one to drive, so I alternate. I try to stay on the back roads and not drive at night. But sometimes I have to or want to. When I went to the workshop on “taking oral histories” last week, I drove the small truck. There was still plenty of daylight, but when it was time to go home, it was dark. Would the truck even start? I soon realized that I didn’t know where the headlight switch was. It took five full minutes of panic to find it.
On another occasion, I drove the big truck to a potluck dinner in honor of a friend who was moving. Holding on for dear life, I held my breath as I maneuvered the one lane dirt road that led from my house to my neighbor’s farm. And no matter where I parked, once I got there, the truck stuck out. Towards the end of this evening, my husband showed up, just off the road from Richmond. Everyone was happy to see him (especially me).
Can you guess which vehicle I drove home that night?
Post note: This is my first entry, thus far, that I might be inclined to hide from my husband, what with me dissing his trucks and all.
May 19th, 2005 11:37 am
I won’t tell ;0) My husband has wrecked every car we own…including my van. And he wonders why I like to drive when we’re together?
May 19th, 2005 11:57 am
I’m sure he knows your thought about them already. Driving a vechile you feel comfortable in is very important.
May 19th, 2005 7:30 pm
It sounds like his trucks deserve all the dissing you can dish out. I’ve driven some pretty awful vehicles in my day, and I could relate completely with your story.
May 19th, 2005 9:08 pm
I love your blog. I grew up on a farm so I like reading your stories about country life.
May 19th, 2005 10:38 pm
Thanks for the kind words you left on my website. I turned 45 in April. That picture of me was taken last December,…and all I can say is the photographer did a lovely job at touching up the photo! He made me look 10 years younger. I think I love him. I have 3 kids…a daughter 20 and twins…a boy and girl that are almost 16.
May 19th, 2005 11:43 pm
My husband just got a new and crappier truck. I pretend I can’t drive it so I can take our nice SUV. Thank God summer’s coming so he can always take the Motorcycle!
May 20th, 2005 7:07 am
Men and their trucks! What can ya say?
I know how you felt when you couldn’t find the headlights… that has happened to me under quite stressful situations where I suddenly found myself having to borrow or use someone else’s vehicle. Ugh. The pain!
By the way, I’m not a Southie. Actually, I was born and raised in NYC. That is, assuming you meant “southerner” by your comment.