I still remember the day I bought this truck. Working at what was Goalie Entertainment, now Romantix Inc. I had asked my Mortgage Broker a referral for a car and he referred me to “Isaac.” Yep, you guessed it. Jew. He was a nice guy. I probably could have saved a bit more, but who knew. I left work and drove down to meet him to look at it and do a test drive. My Dad bought me a Toyota Tercel for my graduation present and I was fed up with how it drove. Amy called it, “The scoop.” and it really was. But it too was a good car.
Until one horrible snow storm Denver had, and I of course tried to be brave and take it out only to get it stuck in the snow. Until some guy came along in a truck and wanted 20 bucks to pull me out of a ditch. I don’t know what I was thinking.
But that is what burned into my image from then on about living in Denver. I don’t care how nice it would be to tool around in a little sports car. I tell you, there is nothing more comforting to know that you can go out in a 4 wheel and probably not get stuck like I did.
As I write this, such a memory seems completely menial, but it was a crossroad.
Anyways, I digressed. So, “Isaac” (sic?) shows me a behemoth Ford Truck with a Camper shell. Way white trash. Wanted something a little more sportier. If its possible with a truck. So he showed me the “Deluxe.” And of course I got sucked into the sale with “I’ve got a list of other people that will easily want this if you decide against it.” Dammit! I hate the scarcity technique of selling.
Couldn’t have painted sucker any bigger across my forehead. So I bought it.
But that’s not the memory I wanted to write about with this truck. I think the memory I wanted to write about was Amy and I being married. Living in our first house on Elm Street that was a tiny ranch 2 bedroom. How I was trying to assimilate into the world of computers and she was trying to assimilate into the world of flying.
But that truck got us through waiting for the house to be built in Strasburg. And the house we waited to get built here in Stapleton. The trips to the storage closets as we waited. And the fights. Oh my god, the fights. Moving is such a fricking nightmare for us.
I think it’s pretty conclusive Amy and I are not nomadic.
This whole diatribe might sound materialistic and petty especially over a truck. But its those objects that you connect with that even after its not even really gone yet still has an emotional attachment.
Anyways, I put the thing on up on Craigslist, again. And now I have received over 100 responses asking to buy it. A guy rode his bike over tonight to look at it and to make arrangements to pick it up tomorrow.
Oh yeah, the goddamn thing didn’t have A/C and let me tell you a little something about living in Colorado. It can get fricking hot here in the summers. Even as a dry heat it sucks.
October 09, 2009, 10:05pm Comments
