I’m a Ford truck man. Or should I say, “I was a Ford truck man.” I have fallen victim to the price of oil. Gone are the good ole’ days of riding high in the saddle, looking out over traffic from my gasoline-guzzling, hay hauling, eight cylinder, two tons of fun and molded steel. There is just something about a truck that appeals to the masculine nature. I’m in mourning.
It made sense to switch, but I never thought I would miss crawling up into my big rig and rolling around town like a modern-day cowboy. Doesn’t the world just look better from inside a truck?
I’m trying my best to make the transition into a mini-SUV. I was certain sliding behind the steering wheel of an oversized go cart would come as less of a surprise. It’s just not the same. I am amazed at how much of my identity was wrapped up in what now seems like a monster truck.
Traveling down the interstate, I possessed a sense of confidence and control. Eighteen-wheelers were kings of the road, but in my truck, even the longest convoy did not intimidate me. Now, despite a state-of-the-art air bag system, superior crash test ratings and customer satisfaction rankings, in my mini-SUV, I feel like a scooter among a pack of Harley Davidsons.
It is ridiculous, but I think my ego is suffering. I liked driving my truck, but I also liked the way I looked in it. I confess, when I think about my big, blue, long-bed, crew-cab beauty, I get a knot in my throat and a tear in my eye. Man, I miss that truck.
Driving a smaller car has its advantages. Parking is easier, take offs are faster and the miles per gallon are unbelievable. I was doing pretty good making the adjustment until an encounter with a family friend in a parking lot.
My friend commented on her admiration for the new mini-SUV. I explained how I missed my truck but things were better now that downsizing had become a reality. Then she said it, “Well it sure is cute.” Her comments nearly threw me into therapy. Cute! Did she say my car was cute? I felt like popping out my chest and marching around like John Wayne.
Cute? In all my years nothing about me has ever been described as cute. Now, in less than a week, I am associated with a cute car! Not a fast car, sports car, muscle car and not even an economy car! No, I am the proud driver of a cute car!
She meant no harm. I am certain she was being complimentary. Her comments made me realize I am much more vain than I ever imagined. Most of the world walks to work and I am struggling with the size of my ride? It’s time a get a grip!
Not only did I need a change in transportation, I needed a change of heart. My horn may now go beep-beep instead of honk-honk, but the experience has taken my pride through a major downsizing. That’s a good thing for a former Ford truck man who has started memorizing Philippians 2:3, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.”
