We're back in Martin after a night in Lewisburg. Samantha had an appointment with her orthopedist, and I needed to pick up my new glasses. I actually like these (a rarity), but if they are like most pairs I've owned, the lenses will start popping out constantly any day now. We stopped in for a short time in Bellevue to grab my mail along with any other news in the Monthly Parental Briefing.
The truck is gone, sold to some private contractor. It didn't really hit me until I got back to Martin, and started thinking about the $800 I now have to spend towards a new vehicle. The next thought was to the previous owner, and the previous-previous owner.
A little history: The white, extended-cab 1998 Ford F-150 came into my family in 1997 when my grandfather traded in his old F-150 after only a few years of having it. He liked the truck because it had the highest tow rating possible that year, and it gave him the extra storage space inside the cab. Namely, this came in handy while toting around three grandchildren.
When my grandfather passed away in 1999, it became evident very early on that my grandmother would have no need for such a vehicle. My dad set out to sell the van, give my Mom the Jeep, and bought the truck. He drove it for a number of years until picking up his 2004 Chevrolet whatever-it-is truck. It sat there for about a year, and I bought it this time last year to replace the aforementioned Jeep. Every vehicle I've ever owned has come from another family member.
I learned to drive in that truck. I drove my furthest distance from home in that truck. I was the first one to ding that truck when I backed over it with a minivan. I was known for that truck in Martin, because it was the nicest vehicle I've ever owned. A small part of me wanted it to sit in my garage many years from now as a "work truck." This isn't just some mindless nostalgia; it's more of an illustration of how things you attach so much history to can disappear in an instant.
I suppose it's on to finding a new vehicle soon.
Of course, I don't mind being on foot because its far from the truth. I drive/ride in Samantha's car in exchange for gas. I like this arrangement, because the amount I was paying monthly insurance will always be less than the amount I pay for gas. If it isn't, I would be the only one on the road anyway, because the economy would have already collapsed again.
We did, however learn some important science lessons last night. First in the area of nutrition, (oil and vinegar chips + Samantha's stomach = Nothing good). Next up, we've got the physics lesson, that it is indeed possible for vomit to land on the hood of the car while traveling 70 mph down the interstate. I think there's a major research project in the works to explain that one. There's also one about relative IQ to occupation, but I'll be nice to the cashier who was awfully confused when he stormed out of the store to yell at "someone" for pissing behind the building because his bathroom was full. He circled the building twice looking for the tall, lanky guy who surely was writing his name on a wall somewhere.
Ok, so I was going to I'll admit. But I'd stopped off to check on Samantha when he came out. I'm still trying to figure out what logic was going through his head in leaving the store full of people, who could have very easily walked out with whatever was in their hands, to run of some guy pissing behind the building. I'm sure his manager would have understood.