It was around this time of year, the summer of 1979 to be more precise, when I bought a little blue Hilux pickup from a Toyota dealership in Houston Texas. I remember the test drive. It was a hot, humid day, very normal for Houston, and I actually ran out of gas from the test drive.
So, I had to sit in a very hot Hilux pickup till the dealership brought more gas.
And that was after a walk to a convenience store to find a payphone. Because, yeah, that’s what you had to do back in those ancient days. Virtually no one drove around with a cell phone or mobile phone. And so-called smart phones were even invented yet, of course.
Anyway…
I had already done test drives in just about every other make, and model a small pickups their were back then. And I had narrowed my choice down to be either a black Datsun pick up or the blue Toyota. I liked that the Toyota had more headroom so it didn’t feel so small. And I liked how spunky it was.
So, I had kind of a World According to Garp moment. And I figured, hey, I’ll take the running out of gas as a sign that this should be my choice. After all, how likely would it be to do that again anytime soon. Especially since running out of gas gave me a clear indication of how the meters on the dash worked.
Win win.
OK, I shared all that with you to give you a little peek into the origin of my time as a small pickup owner.
Fast forward 46 years, and that little Hilux pickup is still in my garage.
But…
The recent turn of events in my personal health (or lack of health) have put my decades long relationship with Ol’ Blue in jeopardy. For one thing, the pick up has a standard transmission, and that requires working three pedals, and that third pedal requires the use of my left leg and foot. And they are not what they want were, let’s just say that.
Plus, Elgielene and I or looking at some changes to compensate, hopefully, for my less than optimum motor control. And those changes might have to include selling Ol’ Blue. If you’ve never kept a vehicle for 46 years, or you’ve never literally explored America, over the years, in a trustworthy car, you won’t understand my dilemma. And when I say trustworthy, I mean like my pickup, which to this day still runs like a top.
Yeah, to say that parting with Ol’ Blue would make me sad is a significant understatement.
But I might have to face the facts that I’ve always known. Nothing in this life lasts forever. Life throws you curveballs. And time moves on. And there’s nothing you can do about that.
You don’t know all my circumstances. So I can’t really get a definitive solution to my dilemma from you. But if you have any ideas about how a couple of old buddies can stay together and maybe cruise few more miles together, drop me an email and let me know. It’s silly, I know. But it’s like this…
Tony And His Little Blue Truck
Tony kept his tools in a little blue truck.
It ran like a top, and it helped him make a buck.
He drove through the country of the brave and free
And saw lots of places most people don’t see.
The little blue truck kept rolling for years.
There must have been magic in each of its gears.
It did more work than any ten trucks should.
Maybe there were angels underneath its hood.
Tony kept the truck when he bought other cars…
In spite of its age and in spite of its scars.
He just wouldn’t part with his rusty old friend.
They still had to go up around the next bend.
Some people say they’ve seen those two drive by
With the headlights off in a moonlit sky.
If it’s true what they say, this might bring you luck…
Wave and smile at Tony and his little blue truck. © 2013
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