Why I’d Rather Drive Our Beat-up Pickup than a Jaguar

Let me start by saying that if I had more money I’d probably have a nicer car. I’m not so disconnected from the American state of mind that I can say that kind of thing is beneath me. I probably wouldn’t get a Jaguar, but definitely something like an Audi or Mercedes.

That being said, I really like driving our ’97 red Ford pickup.

I saw a Jaguar parked at the very end of the HEB parking lot the other day. Probably five spaces surrounding it were empty. Obviously the driver had parked that far away to protect the car. By driving the truck I avoid this completely. I don’t have to worry about someone dinging the old truck. It’s already beat to hell. Both sides have heavy damage from where Kay ran it into the concrete barrier in her parking garage. Then I made it worse by grinding it on a tree in front of Mackenzie’s daycare. It’s just a means of transportation. It’s not a precious thing that I have to baby.

All that and for some reason I like the image of myself (the business professional) getting out of a beat up red Ford. It’s just cool to me. Especially when I’m in a shirt and tie.