Tag Pick-Up Truck

Tinker Bell and His Big Truck

Michael 10 Comments

We had been having a little cold spell last week. Most days the temperature hovered in the mid 20s. One day snowflakes make a concerted effort to coat every flat surface with fluffy, white flakes. I thought Friday might have brought some relief when the 6am weather person announced, “our current temperature temperature is 29°,” but then he had to add, “and that will be our high for the day.”

Then Saturday turned out to be a glorious day. There was actual sunshine. The temperature reached above freezing. People came out from what they thought was going to be an early start to this season’s hibernation. And that’s when the trouble started.

People. People just can’t leave well enough alone. I was driving through the “downtown” area of a snoozy suburb, the stores were still closed, only mine and 3 other cars on the road. Well, one car ahead of me, one car behind me, and one of those “hell yeah I’m a man, look at my big truck” trucks behind that one.

There were’t any people in the stores yet working but the traffic signals were. Our mini convoy was stopped at the first light. The red light went out and before the green light came on from behind me came a “honk.” The fellow in front of me raised his hand between the headrests of his front seat in an “okay” sign. To myself I said, “It wasn’t me but I’m with you. I hate that too.” Two blocks down we are stopped at another light. Red turn to green and behind came another “honk” just about in synch with the light change. Again the driver ahead raised his hand, this time wagging it back and forth. “Not me,” I said louder but only to myself.

In the next block the car behind me pulled into a parking space leaving the fellow with the emotional support pickup to run up to my bumper. Another light, another red signal. Mr. Macho revs his engine. Light changes, truck honks, guy in front turns around and extends a single finger in my direction.

What I would have given for a PA speaker mounted on the roof of my little SUV so I could tell him to take it up with Tinker Bell behind me.

Just then the monster truck backed up and swerved into the opposing lane and sped past the two of us still sitting at the corner, horn honking, finger pointing. Guy in the front car turns around, mouths, “sorry,” and we continue on our anonymous ways.

People. Some people just can’t leave well enough alone.

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Are you afraid life is going too fast? Like too fast even for the guy in the big pick up. Fight the fear with action. You’ll be happier too. We know  we said so in the latest Uplift post. Check it out

But before you go look, have you still not thought about joining the ROAMcare community and have the weekly Uplift blog delivered to your email as soon as it hits the website? In addition to an Uplift release every Wednesday, you will also receive weekly a Monday Moment of Motivation, and our email exclusive Friday Flashback repost of one of our most loved publications. All free and available now at  ROAMcare.org.

Sugar, slice, and a couple things nice

Michael 13 Comments

It’s that time again. The dustbin of my brain needs emptying. Needs to be emptied? Whichever, it’s time to write out all those random thoughts and make room for new dreck, err, information. This time, though, we have some nice thoughts.

Let’s start with the spicier stuff! Spices.

Last week I made one of my favorite dinners. Oh, let’s be honest with each other. If it has a protein, a vegetable, and a starch, it’s one of my favorite dinners. Let’s call this one instead, one of those dinners I don’t often make and thoroughly enjoy whenever I get around to it, which might be once or twice a year – blackened catfish. When I need a blackening seasoning, I start with a commercial Cajun seasoning and add paprika, black pepper and thyme. As I was mixing my new blend I inadvertently grabbed a jar of “fish crust” instead of thyme. Fish crust is a proprietary blend used and sold by one of the local restaurants. I realized my mistake when greenish granules fell into my mix rather than the expected tannish dried flakes. Uh oh! I looked at what I was holding, glaring at the bottle that so looks like the one holding my dried thyme and asked what it thought it was doing, jumping out of the rack into my hand when I clearly called for thyme. “Dude, chill,” the traitorous container said, or so I imagined, “I got your thyme in me along with some parsley, cilantro, lemon, garlic, and salt. So it might be a little salty when it’s all done with what you’ve already out in there. Add an extra squeeze or two of lemon before you pull the fish out of the pan. Sheesh, do I have to think of everything?” And the bottle was right. It all worked out in the end and was extra yummy good.

Something else happened last week that wasn’t so fishy. Thursday I was working on the ROAMcare Motivation Moments that will hit the Internet over the next couple of months. I was stuck. I had a whole day with nothing to do but write as much as I wanted, and I couldn’t put two words together. I ran out of motivation to continue. You may remember not long ago I wrote here in the RRSB post Motivating the Motivators that I had worried that might happen some day. “There was a time when I thought that eventually we would run out of motivation. ‘Who is going to motivate the motivators?’ I would ask.” But then I confidently followed that up with, “but that thought was fleeting.” Fleeting my eye. Where were all the thoughts now. So I did what I usually do when I need a little extra oomph. I went off to read some old Motivating Moments. Sure enough, I found one to work for me in that moment. Two actually, one right after the other. The first reminded me that, “A good day isn’t just about hitting the high points. It’s about making it through the low ones too!” By gosh by golly, I had done a lot that day. I was just in a low point. I could climb out of it, or just hang around there and do something else until my brain re-opened for business. And if I didn’t, well, I had done a lot of work and there will be motivating moments still for weeks with what I’d already put in the can. And just as I was about to close that window in the computer, another Moment tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Psst, hey buddy. Look at me.” It nearly screamed at me across my screen, “Make the time to remind yourself how good you are.” By golly by gosh, we were right again. A slow point doesn’t make for a failed day. For every day’s disappointing minute, there are 1439 other minutes available to be better. And a few of those minutes, and a bowl of ice cream later, we were back in the writing business.

Shifting gears to something not motivating at all, to one of my favorite gripes – pickup trucks with an extra serving of testosterone. I was in my little roadster stopped at a traffic lights as red as the Miata itself. With all that red, you’d think even a dim witted macho man would know to slow down. A question I ask myself every now and then when I take the little convertible out is should I be wearing a helmet?  The state used to require it of motorcyclists but they ones now who don’t have pretty hard heads anyway. Usually I only get that thought when I’m in a parking lot next to a “look how big my pick(up) is” truck and then it goes away as soon as I encounter intelligent life again. Well at that light, I heard the rumble behind me and saw a monster of a truck coming in down the hill and there I sat, frozen in my seat, looking in the rear view mirror and not seeing the truck’s grill, not seeing its front bumper, but seeing its undercarriage and front end suspension bits! It was lifted so high off the road, it literally could ride right over me!! There was no shoulder to my right and oncoming traffic to my left. And that left me three choices, sit, pray, or get out of the way.  That’s when I shifted gears and red light or not, pulled forward into the intersection, made a quick check to the left, then one to the right, that a glance at the medal clipped to my sun visor that says, “Never drive faster than your Guardian Angel car fly,” apologized to my ever-present but unseen companion, and flew! I was across the intersection and safely on the side of the road when the monster truck hurtled by. I said a quick prayer of thanks and pulled back onto the roadway to continue my leisurely drive. About 2 miles down the road, Mr. Macho was looking down out of the cab of his metal manhood at the top of the nice officer’s head handing over his license, registration, and insurance. Who says prayers are never answered?

Okay, that’s it for this week’s random thoughts. Tune in again next week for another exciting episode of “What will he come up with now?”

Hey, while we speaking of spices, that reminds me about condiments. Did you know people are like condiments? We explain why we think so in the most recent Uplift! It only takes 3 minutes to read. Go ahead, click that link!

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You think your commute is challenging

Michael Leave a comment

The weather forecasters are saying it will be chilly this weekend, somewhere between 25 and 30 degrees colder than the first half of this week and only 8 degrees above freezing during the daytime. That will probably be a better time to take the little car out for a spin than in clear, 70 degree, sunshiney weather.

If you’ve been reading for a while you know I have a little red convertible that gets about as much use as you would imagine in an area where the average temperature is 52 degrees F and it rains or snows almost 150 days a year. But when the sun comes out the top goes down and I understand the true meaning of the phrase “worth the wait.” Right up until some guy with more testosterone than brains spots me.

I went out in the middle of the day when the real men with huge pick-up trucks riding on 28 inch wheels with massive brush guards, multiple running lights, and chrome steps to get into the cab should have been at work doing something involving torches and welders’ masks and comparing tattoos. But no, there was one about ¾ mile behind me when I slipped onto the onramp of the local expressway. I heard him, or rather his mufflerless behemoth, snarling up behind me. He closed that ¾ mile before I made it all the way to the end of the acceleration ramp and in his desire to make certain I knew he had more horsepower at his disposal than I did, he passed me on the single lane ramp and launched himself onto the highway mainline. Right in front of another mini-monster truck a few miles per hour above the speed limit. It was a spectacular sight in my rear view mirror. You could almost see their premiums going up.

I pulled onto the shoulder and waited until I saw that both of the not quite matured miscreants were moving about on their own power and then eased back into traffic and continued on my spring shake-out tour. You would think I’d have been shocked at the carnage (or trucknage if you prefer) and I was the first time or two such craziness happened. Unfortunately this goes on every year when I, and presumably everyone else with a weekend roadster, first hit the road.

In a month or so the craziness will wane perhaps because the crazy mongers become used to seeing us on the road again or perhaps because they run out of clean underwear.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

(Yes, I know this is St. Patrick’s Day and I didn’t say anything about that in my post. Monday was Pi Day and I didn’t bring that up then either. I’m not totally predictable.) (Am I?)

 

It’s Two, Two, Two Vehicles in One

Michael Leave a comment

Due to circumstances beyond his control, which are almost all circumstances, He of We took a different route to work one day not long ago.  It took him past an apartment building’s parking lot where facing the street was the shiniest, brightest, chrome-iest, mid-80’s Chevy El Camino.  A car/truck that few ever give a second thought to but was always around from its first release in 1959 until the last one rolled off the assembly line in 1987.  If it seemed like there were a lot of them on the roads there was even a GMC version produced from1971 through 1987 called first the Sprint then later renamed the Caballero.

The El Camino was a cool vehicle.  It and Ford’s Ranchero were the SUVs of the 60’s and 70’s.  It was a car when it was people hauling time, a truck when it was stuff hauling time, but it wasn’t a dowdy station wagon any of the time.  If you asked most American men who were gasoline-fueled teenagers then, they would be able to tell you quite a bit about these early utility vehicles . They could quote horsepower ratings, top speed, payload, wheelbase, and similarities and differences between these light duty pick-ups and the cars they were based on.  Perhaps even with more clarity than they could describe their own garage built hot rods.  That’s because that’s what gasoline-fueled teenage boys did back then.

Although it’s been over 25 years since an El Camino sat in a new car showroom, 35 years for a Ranchero to do the same, every once in a while one shows up on the road.  They are reminders that the “crossover” vehicle segment did not begin with the Toyota RAV 4.  (There were similar vehicles built in the 1930’s but they never made it through World War II.)  If you happen to be reading this in Australia or South Africa it’s possible that you might see a brand new car/truck drive by.  GM’s Australian division Holden still produces an El Camino type vehicle called the Holden Ute in Australia and the Chevrolet Lumina Ute in South Africa.

Perhaps someday the El Camino will return to American roads.  When it does (ok, if it does), it might be enough of a draw to create a new generation of gasoline-fueled teenage boys.  Now if we can only bring back malt shops and sock hops.

Now that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you.