A couple of years ago, my husband Stan and I bought a 1995 Ford pickup truck from Craig’s list. I will never drive it, but I admire it either from the passenger’s seat or as an appreciative observer of him carting around something useful, like furniture, mulch, or stuff to be moved to the dump. He got even more popular after he purchased it.
The truck is a good strong blue, has a few appropriate dents and scratches, but is still robust and handsome. Many have borrowed it for tasks too daunting for their passenger cars. It’s high off the ground, manly, weathered. The first experience we had in this truck was to drive to Cheyenne, Wyoming because that seemed so right. A Ford pick-up in Wyoming. We had a fine time there, eating hamburgers and fries (what else?) on the main drag, and an interesting visit to the local state museum. When we got home, I felt that the truck, whose name is Tiny, deserved a song.
Let’s Hit the Road
Susan Rose: Singing Grandma 
Nice tune, Susan. I grabbed a ‘99 just before the 2013 flood; Duffy and I made numerous trips to Western Disposal with waterlogged carpets and tons of worthless stuff.
“Goldie” (her color and her worth) has been loyal and reliable ….. and has increased our popularity with neighbors. She’s a Ranger 4×4 so I’m known as “Ranger Dave”.