Posted on 03/04/2015 8:33:19 AM PST by blueunicorn6
I finally had to put Old Gus out of my misery. Gus was the pickup I inherited from my Father. I wouldn't call Dad a hoarder, but the man had a collection of shoestrings.
"Well, the boots might wear out, but you can always use the strings for stuff like hanging up pictures."
You should have seen his art collection. Naked Mexican ladies hanging by a shoestring. That sounds like a new Showtime series. But I digress.
Old Gus was like a brother to me. In fact, in Dad's will, he left me to Gus. Oh, I'll bet the lawyer laughed at that one when he was drawing up the will. That's OK. Dad left the lawyer his collection of stuffed squirrels.
At some time in ancient history, Gus had probably been quite a vehicle. He was probably the first pickup that didn't have a hole in the floorboard where Fred Flinstone could use his feet to get it moving. Gus had a crank. That was my Dad. No, actually Gus started with a key. Or he used to. Dad used one of his screwdrivers where the ignition switch used to be.
"It's an ignition switch and a beer can opener."
Dad loved getting dual use out of things. Like I wasn't just his son, I was also the flashlight holder when he needed to work on Gus.
"Can't you at least hold a flashlight steady? Uncle Dave has a steadier hand than you and he's a drunk."
Yeah. Like Uncle Dave would lie under a pickup in a freezing garage holding a flashlight for Dad. He'd only do that when they were hunting for trophy squirrels.
"Keep the light on him, Dave! He's for sure a six pointer! I'll get him when he jumps to grab you!"
Anyway. Gus had not aged well. Dad didn't believe in using original equipment parts to fix things on Gus. He didn't believe much in replacement parts. He used duct tape for most repairs . I know that a lot of you call it duck tape, but the wide, grey sticky stuff is duct tape. Duck tape is what they use to tape wings on a duck. In the Army, we called it hundert-mile-an-hour-tape because you were supposed to be able to drive one hundred miles per hour and the tape wouldn't come loose and start flapping.
Gus had become a grey pickup from having so much duct tape on him. I think he was red under all that tape. I couldn't tall. Shoot. Maybe he was a Porsche.
The dogs loved to ride in the back. The two brothers would take up positions as enemy-dog-spotters on either side of the cab. The girl would sit nobly trying to impersonate the Queen of Norway in her carriage. The little dog sat up front with me. He had once found a five year old french fry on the floor, and he wasn't going to miss the possibility of finding even more food treasure.
We were all heading to the home improvement store when the pudgy dog brother spotted an enemy dog while we were at the stoplight. To dogs, this is even better than watching a new naked Mexican lady series on Showtime. The Yuppie Puppy brother dog switched sides to join in the alert. I turned around to look and see what was going on. The little dog, the sneaky one, shifted Gus into reverse. The light changed and I backed into a swamp. Me and the dogs got out, but Gus went down like the Titanic. The little dog kept telling me that the Captain should go down with his ship. I promoted him to Captain, but the little sneak wouldn't go out into the water. I even told him there was a bag of french fries under the seat. He thought they were probably soggy by now.
Old Gus was too far gone to repair after they winched him out of the swamp. Mud and water gushing out the doors and the little dog jumped into the cab to look for that bag of fries under the seat.
Time for a new pickup! Do you know that there are pickup dealerships where they will let you take a pickup home for a test drive. I thought that was carjacking, but the salesman said he trusted me. So I took the new pickup home for a test drive.
My wife is prejudiced against pickups. It's about her only character flaw. She is vertically challenged, so she needs a little step to get into the cab of a pickup. I have a coffee can that she uses. The fancy coffee shop closed down one day for painting, and she pulled the coffee can out to get in Old Gus. Three skinny-legged women saw the can and came rushing over to get a fix.
I got a new coffee can and invited her for the test drive. Of course, the dogs didn't have anything better to do since it was too early to go to the opera, so they decided to come along, too. They took up their usual positions.
We came to the stoplight, again. The pudgy brother again saw an enemy dog that was evidently "Danger Close!", and started going wild. I turned to see what the dog was barking at. The new truck had all the latest gadgets. The little dog had seen the screen for the backup camera when we backed out of the driveway. He figured it was about time for Spongebob or whatever it is he watches at that time of day, so he shifted the pickup into reverse so he could see Patrick fall off a chair or something. My final view on the screen was of the swamp getting closer and closer.
I own that truck now. Seems that the dealership didn't want to try and sell a truckboat. I have found another use for duck, I mean duct tape. I tape the sneaky little dog to the seat when we go anywhere now. And I put a French fry on the seat juuuuuuust out of his reach.
* No dogs were actually hurt in the writing of this story, but three skinny-legged women got soaked trying to retrieve the coffee can from the swamp.
Amusing. Thank you.
What a clever read, thanks for sharing!
Your dad and mine could have been best buddies.
I’m thinking reality show. If the Cardashers......Qartushians......Bruce Jenner’s group can get $100,000,000 for a reality show, then we’re worth at least two free tickets to the tractor pull.
Well done! Thanks.
Been married to Mrs outofsalt for nearly two decades and the biggest fight we’ve had was when I bought an old pickup for $500. Why do some women hate pickups?
If you want to sell Gus...
Mrs. Martel recently *suggested* that I look for a ‘56 F-100 to fix up. “As long as you paint it red” was her caveat, which I will be happy to accomodate. Ten years ago, she would’ve never suggested such a thing. Living in Texas has been good for her. :-)
Thanks. A great story.
Throw in old cars and K5 blazers, plus willys and amc jeeps.
However the other religion of baseball must never, ever be criticized. I despise baseball and sports in general.
If you ever decide to trade her in...
Hundred-mile-an-hour tape in the Army is really a 100-foot measuring tape. If the Army improperly used much duct tape (as so many civilians do now), the Army would go broke pretty fast. ;-)
We used it to hold the turrets on the tanks. If you rotated the turret three complete turns to the left, it would fall off. We had those old diesel tanks. You could never get them to do a hundred miles per hour to check the tape. It would hold on at 92 miles an hour, though.
Don’t forget International Harvester pickups. Learned to drive in one. When it was empty, you could drive it like an automatic — start it out in top gear (third) and never shift.
Never tangled with one but saw a few growing up. Old IH may have never been a beauty queen but were as tough as they came.
I always liked the scout 2. Over the past year or so, I have seen a few restored ones on the road here in SC.
Fun read. I like your style.
Thank you. Some people think my Leisure Suit is outdated. Oh, you mean writing style.
LOL!
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.