You did not buy that truck.


That is probably what many people would have said to me if I had brought home any one of these trucks. You see a few weeks ago there was an estate auction of a very popular local guy that loved collecting old cars, trucks, farm equipment, machinery and anything else that looked to have value. I personally had never met the gentleman, but I know many people that knew him well, and he was very well respected far and wide. Among his collection were piles of evil sad looking trucks that I would have loved to nurse back to life from behind the tinted shield of a welding mask. The problem was that many were lacking all hope and proper paperwork. Sure they may have had good roofs and maybe a usable door here and there, but a roof doesn’t make a legal truck in Massachusetts. Most were nothing more than the handsomest looking scrap metal. Needless to say, there isn’t one in my driveway as I type this. That doesn’t mean that I don’t regret leaving them in the field that day.  In fact, the more I look at them, the more I think that I may have made a horrible mistake. A little wax, a couple swings of the hammer, and they could have been on the road again. Shrug. Everything rides into the sunset eventually. I’ll hope that these derelict metal hulks haven’t taken that drive just yet, and I’ll keep my eyes peeled for them in the future, just in case I have a second chance to redeem myself.