I Come By It Honestly

This is my Dad's Truck. See picture #2.

It's a thing of beauty to only him. There's spray paint, and mismatched doors, welds in various places, I honestly don't think the windows go up...it's an all weather ride. He could take it apart and put together by himself. I have watched him do it may times. He know how it sounds, (" a Chevy doesn't run right until it ticks") he knows if something is wrong or broken just by ear. There's a partnership between this truck and my Dad. He takes care of it, and it takes care of him.

The best part is inside: See picture #1. Oh, how this part makes me smile. This looks like a tangled mess of junk, but in reality it is an endless resource. You see a can of oil, he needs that for when the truck runs low. (If you ask me, a Chevy dosn't run right till it drips..) You see a bucket....there's hydraulic fluid in that...needs that for the backhoe...it runs low, maybe blow a hose on occasion, easy fix if you have hydraulic fluid. Balls of aluminum foil look like left-overs from lunch, that's a replacement for a burned out fuse. Scraps of wood are blocks for the tires (these always come in handy.) Scraps of wire, black electrical tape, extra lights and bulbs, you've got yourself a regular fix-it kit for all of your electrical. An empty bottle is useful when you have to walk to the nearest stream to get more water for the radiator.

Most of all, when my Dad has to climb over the large amounts of "stuff" I keep in my car, he can't say a thing. See, I come by it honestly.