"I love my truck
it's a right outside"
Whenever I see these old trucks I tend to look at them through that sentimental point of view I am prone to as I cruise deeper into middle age. My Dad has always owned a truck. He worked at Ford, so most of his trucks have been Ford's. He worked two jobs for over forty years so the man was a working man who knew how to work a truck. His last working truck was an F- 350 with a small 3 yard dump body, a 460 engine and a really tall creeper gear. He sold it for scrap after 350,000- mostly overloaded- miles.
"Don't have much luck
But I sure got a ride"
There's more. These trucks serve as a reminder to all of us of what's missing in our cyber space, service economy. We seem to have lost our way over the last few decades as we have moved away from making things, real things, to making things up- try to describe a credit default swap. Pride in work is much deeper and richer when you can see what was produced. Better still when you can hold it, run your hands over it. These trucks fed families, provided a living for generations. If you listen very carefully you can hear a story in the rusting base metal. It might start out like this....
"Son, I want you to take the flatbed up to the market and get a load of hay. On your way back stop by old man Baker's place an unload a couple bales in his barn."
"O.k., Dad. After I'm done can I use the truck to take Sally to the movies?"
"Sure can. Here's a few extra bucks so you can get a sunday down at the drugstore."