Having lived in the mountains of North Carolina for almost 30 years, I mostly forget that we are loosely in what is known as the “bible belt”. That is until you find yourself in a Wal-Mart parking lot on an above-average-temperature-for-late-March Saturday morning. Every truck in the county where I live and maybe portions of Tennessee were parked in their parking lot. (I will leave it to you to figure out what relationship exists between trucks and living in the bible belt—it made sense to me at the time I thunk it)
It was hard to find a car anywhere because trucks are a lot taller and would naturally obscure a persons view from most anyplace in the lot. I drove a car and I remember seeing a few more here and there, but by and large it was trucks, trucks and more trucks.
I am not saying that this is bad at all: what man, at some level, doesn’t want a truck. I have had two: a 1971 chevy long bed pick-up and when that died, I bought a 1949 chevy with the cool rounded fenders froma friend of mine.
It was on blocks, the bed was almost shot and the brakes didn’t work but it was love at first sight. After I fixed it up I drove it for a couple of years until I needed a van for our crafts business and that was the end of it. I sold it to a friend who turned it around in a couple of days and made several hundred off the sale. I got enough money for the van and some new tires and so I was happy.
The van lasted for a couple of years until I sold it to some guy for a $150 dollars. I think he gave me $100 and said that he would have the other $50 in a week and I never saw the rest of it. A year or so later I saw the guy in town but he didn’t recognize me so I didn’t mention the subject to him. We live and learn.
And that was my last truck. The place where I work has one and when I need to haul a load of something to the landfill, I borrow it when available. That way it only costs a few bucks for gas and I don’t have to make room for another vehicle in the driveway.
Anyway, as I was walking with my wife the other evening, I was, in between conversation with her, thinking about topics that could be considered “blog worthy”.
This past weekend was an example of a thought that could be expanded upon. It was beautiful. Upper 60’s to mid-seventies and a slight breeze. Friday was great—I took a day off my job—did lots of stuff and over the course of the weekend took two bike rides and did a lot of gardening. My thought about all of this was: If you gave a 100 people the assignment of creating a perfect weekend—it would have looked pretty much like we got it. Talk about Carolina blue skies and a few puffy clouds.
Weekends are a time to catch up and get some much needed R & R. I would even go so far as to say weekends are ordained by God. Not that you can’t cut your grass on Sunday or go out to eat—but the principle of taking a day of rest out of a workweek is still a wise thing to do.
I read something about young athletes that seems relevant to my point. The writer was proposing the hypothesis that the younger a person started playing at a professional level, the more likely they were to have injuries and not have as long a career as those who waited until later to start the professional grind. If you started professional playing at 15 you might last til you were 22. But if you waited a few years, you might make it to 35, Andre Agassi’s age at retirement.
Anyway—as Woody Guthrie so properly put it, “Take it easy…but take it!”
Enjoy your ride.