I know it’s a cliche to say I love my truck and I try to not succumb to cliches when possible, but as Emily Gilmore once said, “cliches are just things we’re tired of being true.” And yes, I love The Gilmore Girls. Judge not lest ye be judged. 

I’m not really much of a car guy and am pretty content with anything that will start when I turn the key, but from the second I saw this truck I knew I wanted it. It sat on that lot calling to me like Ulysses’s sirens. 

When our town turned into a scene from the Frozen movies, my truck sat in the driveway for the better part of a week while I sat on the couch for the same amount of time. The cold killed my battery so I had to drive my wife’s car until I could find the time to replace the battery, and when I cranked that V8 up for the first time in a week it was like being greeted by an old friend. 

It’s not a special truck. It’s nearly twenty years old and has some rust on the roof. If you want to unlock it you’ve got to reach across to the passenger door. The steering wheel is starting to peel and it uses so much gas it’d make a hippy cry. Before summer comes I’ll have to get the AC fixed too, but I’ve got time. 

With all its warts and dents, I still love it. Not because it’s the nicest or because it runs like a top, but because it suits me. And it’s paid off. It just looks like the kind of truck that would have Marty Robbins playing on the radio. 

Finding a vehicle that’s just right is sort of like finding a pair of boots that fits perfectly. When you slide them on, you just know they were made for you.  Not every pair of boots is for everyone, and not every truck is either. Like Goldilocks, we all need something that’s just right. It can’t be too big or too small.