Wednesday, June 11, 2008

A man and his pickup

Rob is the proud father of a new pickup truck. He has always talked about wanting a truck. (I'm not kidding. I'm sure he mentioned this the first time we met...) And then we moved to Boston and he dreams were shattered. Trucks are not good city cars. Good thing we're moving to the suburbs! As if he needed a reason, he figured this would be a good investment now that we will need to haul all of our trash and recycling to the dump (don't get me started on the concept of a town that doesn't pick up garbage), as well as large home items (to me this means Ikea runs, to him it means Home Depot). He (the car) is currently going through initiation into the Theta Beta Beta fraternity that we are, by making continuous nightly trips to the new house to drop off more boxes.

We have a history of naming our cars. It started with the Mamagurk (the Rav4). Then as we progressed in size, not to mention it was bought when I was carrying triplets, the minivan is named Big Mama. We've been discussing potential truck names, with Bunndaddy being the current favorite.



And I'm not joking when I tell you that during my first ride in the car, the country song "Pickup Man" came on. If you're not familiar (I wasn't), the lyrics go something like this: There's something women like about a pickup man...

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love it!! Great to see the truck!!

Love
Lala

Anonymous said...

Rob,
The truck looks good on you!
The lyrics are
Pickup Man
(Kerry Kurt Phillips/Howard Perdew)

Well I got my first truck, when I was three,
Drove a hundred thousand miles on my knees
Hauled marbles and rocks, and thought twice before
I hauled a Barbie Doll bed for the girl next door
When she paid me with a kiss I began to understand,
There's just something women like about a PickUp Man

When I turned sixteen, I saved a few hundred bucks
My first car was a Pickup Truck
Started cruisin' the town and the first girl I seen
Was Bobbie Jo Gentry the homecoming queen
She flagged me down and climbed up in the cab, and said
"I never knew you were a Pickup Man!"

You can set my truck on fire, roll it down a hill
But I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
It's got an eight foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks we wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams,
You know there's something women like about a Pickup Man

Most Friday nights, I can be found
In the back of my truck on an old chaise lounge
Backed into my spot at the drive-in show
You know a cargo light gives off a romantic glow
I never have to wait in line at the popcorn stand,
There's just something women like about a pickup Man

You can set my truck on fire, roll it down a hill
But I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
It's got an eight foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks we wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams,
You know there's something women like about a Pickup Man

A bucket of rust, or a brand new machine
Once around the block and you'll know what I mean

You can set my truck on fire, roll it down a hill
But I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
It's got an eight foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks we wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams,
You know there's something women like about a Pickup Man

Rob-I just guess your Southern roots are starting to show!

Love you,
Traci