My Old Lady

She did not look like the type that would ever wake up again. She was old, with the type of frame in much need of cosmetic work.

And she needed a bath. I mean a good hard scrub to get the years – as well as dust & dirt & grime – off of her. Her heart still could be fired up, though. There was something wonderful & new about this Old Gal. Something special.

She was mine!

That is something, in itself, that meant more to me than her body… more than what she smelled like, or how long she would go.

She was mine!

It had been years since I had ridden a lady like her… years since I had shifted into the right position, made a lady jump & moan, breathing in the excitement of going further.

I’m 38 years old. And the tradition remains: I had to name her.

I named her Jean after my wife. Her middle name is Jean, and when she handed me over the keys to that worn-out farm truck, I was all smiles. Like I said, it has been years since I had a vehicle, let alone a stick-shift truck.

Jean is a Toyota Tacoma. Over 200,000 miles on her. She is a survivor. Some work had to be done to her. Fluids needed to be changed & filled. Other than that, she runs & purs just fine.

Driving Ms. Jean up our steep, gravel driveway, the dust spreading like tan-colored smoke in a high wind is wonderful – a feeling of freedom coursing through my body as the 4×4 tires grind into the ground.

It is a wonderful gift.

Better yet, SHE IS ALL MINE!

Not even a bank can take that beauty from me.

So, all of you that have a truck you love, make sure & give her a name; make sure the oil is changed regularly, along with the air filter. Keep her clean. Ride her hard when she wants it (all ladies secretly like that) and always be thankful such things are not just a dream… such things are attainable.

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