“Y’know, a good test to figger out if your mission on Earth is finished is, if you’re alive...it ain’t!”
I ain’t sure why old men think they need a truck...f’er that matter, I ain’t sure why so many old men think they need to raise a beard...
In my ‘salad days’ I never dreamed of owning a truck...farthest thing from my mind possibly...Nah! I wanted a sports car, preferably one with a monster engine that ‘ud go really fast, sumthing built low to the ground, sort’a like a motorized skateboard...
‘Course, back then, I cudn’t picture m’self getting old...still find that kind’a difficult to b’leeve sumtimes, specially when I look in a mirror ‘n do a double take ‘cuz the guy in the mirror don’t seem t’be me...
Now I don’t know about guys that grew up in cities ‘n it’s a fact that I ain’t ‘ever been whatcha might call ‘a country boy’ seeing as how I grew up in a small town ‘n the kids that actually grew up in the country looked upon us as ‘townies’ except they prob’ly used a little more derogatory term for us...it wudn’t have been too derogatory howsumever since we were all pretty much friends (at least, it seems so in mem’ry ‘n that’s the way I want’a look at it)...Anyhow,just being from Kentucky is enuff to make a body at least a little bit country ‘n ever’body knows that a country boy needs a pick’em truck at sum point in his life ‘n since I’m kind’a picking at the edges of my dotage ‘n I’m already tending to my little garden patch of a beard, I figured the time wuz ripe for me to get m’self a pickup truck so I done so...
“I’m thinkin’ that sumtimes it’s a big mistake to know enuff to go in when it rains.”
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