the size of your truck doesn’t matter.

18 Aug

So I was on a couple date the other night when the other fella at the table (we’ll call him Manute) declared, “Well, I’ve got some ideas for the Grown Man.”  The table snickered and then was exceedingly impressed when he produced a 3×5 card with neatly written, bullet pointed, ideas.  Clearly, this man meant business.

RIP ManuteOne of his ideas was something like, “Grown Men must have trucks. I love my truck, and when I see a guy in a little Honda, I laugh.”  At this point in the conversation, I slipped away into my own thoughts and began writing this post.  Because trucks, and cars in general, are something that men go ape-crap about.  Really, I don’t need to elaborate on this point, do I?  Guys love automobiles, it’s as American as TMZ and Double Downs.  But why? Why the obsession?

Manute had a solid point.  Trucks are awesome.  I’ve had a truck, someday I’d like another one.  There’s something about knowing that you can do basically anything in a good truck that makes them so appealing.  While most men drive the same six mile stretch everyday with their suitcase in the passenger seat and absolutely no adventure worthy of such a grand vehicle, just knowing that, if the need arose, you could haul two palates of sod or could quickly enlist a stranger to drive while you stand in the bed of the truck and shot at bad guys! Trucks rule.

But Gentlemen, we’ve turned the love of our vehicles up to 11 and need to dial it down a notch.  Being cool in a truck isn’t about having the truck, it’s about confidence.  My friend Manute doesn’t really laugh at poor Honda Civic drivers when he sees them – he’s too good of a man.  And, in fairness to him, he was sitting next to his girlfriend of 10 months and across the table from the two of us who basically knew him through the girlfriend.  The freaking guy had a lot of charming to do.

However, plenty of guys do see their vehicle as some badge of superiority in the caste system of masculinity. These are the same guys that put stickers on the back that read “It’s a Jeep thing, you wouldn’t understand” or display a picture of Calvin pissing on [insert rival truck company’s logo].  These guys are, wait for it…wait for it….NOW!  Compensating. They’re saying, “Don’t see me, see the truck.”  To these men I say, nothing on this planet will make you look cooler and stand out above the other men like a solid sense of self and a truck load of humility.  What’s important is that you like the truck.  It’s not about being held in higher regard than others, it’s about being your own Grown Man.  Confidence, confidence, confidence – it’s really the game changer.

Allow me to end with a story:  When I was 15, my grandfather gave me his car as he was upgrading to a standard issue, old dude Saturn.  For six months before I got my license, I went outside every day and cleaned the car, put a new and ridiculously loud stereo in the car, and generally just played with my new toy.  I loved that car and felt like the coolest guy that ever lived.  On the day that I turned 16 and finally got to drive it, I went everywhere!  My mom would mention two rooms away that we were running low on eggs… “No problem mom, I’ll be right back!” My brother would need to go to t-ball practice… “Oh geez mom and dad, you’ve had a hard day, let me take him!”  For real, I was the MAN in that car.

That car was* a 1.0 L, 3 cylinder, Geo Metro.  Not familiar with the Metro?  It’s a lawnmower with four doors that I literally had to fall into because I’m so tall.  And, even though that was one of the smallest, crappiest cars ever made, it was absolutely the coolest vehicle I’ll ever own – even when I finally get the 1957 Chevrolet 5100 (or one of the thousand other amazing trucks I drool over).  The man makes the Geo, not the other way around.

You’re a Grown Man, the size of your truck doesn’t matter.

*I totaled that car 13 days after I got my license.  16-year-olds shouldn’t be allowed to drive.

13 Responses to “the size of your truck doesn’t matter.”

  1. Speech 18 August 2010 at 11:46 am #

    I agree whole-heartedly. I had an ’86 Buick Regal as a teenager (in the mid-nineties) and that car was my pride and joy. I treated it like gold. No matter what it looked like on the outside, it felt like a Lamborghini once my hands were on the steering wheel.

    I might suggest one small codicil, however. If your car is an Aston Martin with machine guns for headlights, ala James Bond, your car may help define you more. At least 60/40%.

    With Deepest Respect,

  2. Nick 18 August 2010 at 1:17 pm #

    Well Met Grown Men!

    I’m 21 and this is my chariot:

    I love my car. Since I have no home in my name, and a room with paper thin walls at school this is MY sanctuary. I can crank the death metal and scream my frustrations, or I can roll up the seats, plug a FM tuner into my laptop’s Headphone port, find a field of a nice old man on a moon lit night, with a lady friend and a blanket. *Magical*

    Side Note: The dating advice has gone spectacular. Shot down by a long time crush with a complicated relationship. I stood up for myself and took a stand.. was a real man.

    Thanks GM! Keep on truckin’!

  3. Steve 18 August 2010 at 2:24 pm #

    My first car was a mid-80’s vintage Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser station wagon. It was the best car I’ve ever owned. And I agree with your choice of trucks, she’s a beauty. But alas, now I’m a fahrvergnugen guy. What can I say, I enjoy German engineering.

    • You're a Grown Man 18 August 2010 at 9:48 pm #

      And that, my friend, is okay. Love your German engineering and don’t let the big truck American dudes tell you otherwise!

  4. Strick 18 August 2010 at 5:28 pm #

    16 year olds and their cars are invincible, drag racing, doing donuts, flying down the highway in your piece of crap thinking you are in a corvette, blaring music with the windows down cause you are such a bad ass and then one or two things happen, you totall it or you experince your first encounter with the law, damn I miss that old car…

    • You're a Grown Man 18 August 2010 at 9:46 pm #

      Those were the day, weren’t they? I had 13 days of bliss in my Geo…RIP.

  5. Heather 18 August 2010 at 9:23 pm #

    Hahaha–this was great. I especially like your comment about a solid sense of self and a truck load of humility. Grown Men can’t be decent to anybody else if they don’t feel it for themselves.

    But, if only Grown Men could learn this before getting their licenses… My son also totalled our mini van just days after getting his license, and there’s nothing worse for a Grown Mom to hear than the ‘I’ve been in an accident,’ phone call.

    • You're a Grown Man 18 August 2010 at 9:45 pm #

      Oh man, that must be the worst! I assume he’s okay?

      • Heather 18 August 2010 at 9:57 pm #

        Yes, he is–and thank you for asking. It was a head-on collision, but no one was injured. Insurance rates are too high for him to have his own vehicle for a little while, though–but, I can live with that. 🙂

  6. 1bellastager 18 August 2010 at 11:50 pm #

    Will you please add a note about those terribly disgusting “truck nutz” that guys add to their vehicles? It grosses me out, and honestly what woman in her right mind would date a man that owned a pair of those?

  7. Coco 19 August 2010 at 11:33 am #

    Excellent points! I’d add that unless one is hauling concrete or pig iron on a regular basis, driving a truck is actually not very good for the environment, either. I think Grown Men in a more fuel-efficient car have plenty of cool to go around.

  8. Ashleyhh 19 August 2010 at 1:51 pm #

    While I see your point, not everyone needs a truck… I can’t help but wonder who wouldn’t want one. My parents wouldn’t let me or my sister get a pick up when we were growing up, but I learned how to drive on an F350 and I still love driving my daddy’s Silverado every chance I get!

    And I will admit, I am a sucker for a hot guy in a truck. It can be a beater of a truck, but a truck/jeep… hot. 😉

  9. Alexia 20 August 2010 at 11:15 pm #

    You know, I’ve just started watching True Blood, so all this sounded Southern in my head. And it made it that much sexier. Miaow.

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