“Maggie, my sweet darling,…we need a “pick-em-up” truck to tote our firewood and your garden dirt”
Be careful for what you wish for, because now we own one!
Thanks to Maggie’s “eagle” eye for “back-country” roadside bargains, and the fact she will never pay the “posted” price, we are now proud owners of a classic, faded red 1983 Ford F-100 pickup truck. A “haggle” here and a “haggle” there, and plotting our leaving to return the next day, clinched the “rock bottom” low price of $750. Maggie has quite the mix, when it comes to varied bloodlines, so the innate sum of her heritage “haggling” talents broke the seller down. Broke him down hard. His advertised price was $1000. You gotta love Maggie for her bargaining savvy.
Now to the “lure/lore/love” aspect of my post today, pickup trucks are akin to a cowboy’s horse from over a century ago. If an outlaw stole a cowboy’s horse it was like cutting off his arms and legs. A cowboy without his horse was helpless. That is why they had a custom of hanging someone who stole a man’s horse.
Pickups are the mountain man/woman’s version of a horse, in my opinion. Without a pickup, a mountain man/woman is helpless too. Pickups have served a myriad of purposes since their inception. Toting, towing, traveling, hunting, fishing, mudding, camping, and the younger generation’s use for “spooning,”are just a small sampling of necessary uses the pickup truck serves. Pickups also can be status symbols. Many mountain men & women spend untold amounts of money outfitting their personal “statements.” Then their are “restorers” who travel back in time and relive the glory of “days gone by” and spend equal amounts of money re-creating that lost moment in time.
Boston Mountain farmers, bankers, teachers, ranchers, mechanics, lawyers, doctors, and “et. al.” share a common “longing” when it comes to the veritable “pick-em-up” truck. Cars are for “city slickers,” trucks are for the true mountain folk.
Our truck now has a new use. It is a common use called “honey-do.” Maggie just points and says “honey, do this, do that.” Doesn’t matter if I am now a mountain man, I learned a long time ago “which side the bread is buttered on.”…later my friends…