Memories of Youth

When I was a kid my Dad had a big 1976 Ford F250. The thing was huge and green. When I had an ear infection (age 7) and had a really high fever my mother threw me into the passenger's seat and drove it to the doctor's office, though she couldn't reach the pedals and shifting was nearly impossible. When I got a little older my father redid the body on it and painted it with a gorgeous shade of bright metal fleck limey green.

At some point around this time my Dad bought a dump truck that did not run. It just needed a little work. He didn't pay much for it and it sat at the end of our driveway and near the bushes where our rabbits were penned. We used it as a giant rugged jungle gym. The back of the truck was a club house and it's rugged body couldn't be hurt with our shoes and hands. We spent hours and hours climbing up it. the best thing about that truck was that the roof and hood had thick metal so you could actual launch yourself over the  top of it and climb up over the top of it.

The bus that picked me up from grades K- 7 was a big old bus. A large rounded snout, dark green seats with hardly any cushioning, and a floor so grimey that anything it touched turned black. It didn't have any of these safety features new buses have, no instead, we bounced around on it's shockless carriage.

Those early interactions with those old trucks have cemented in my head that trucks should have big fat noses, big round head lights, and side mirrors you can do chin ups on. I love me some big round head lights. When I day dream of vehicles I think of trucks like these with character.

Memories of Youth
Do I forsee a series of truck drawings in my future?