Saturday, February 7, 1987
I was an easy target. Just one look - the firm curve of her body, the trim of her tail - and then the purr of power when I rode her - she seduced me. After a couple of furtive, impulsive meetings I realized that quite simply I was in love. With a truck. And I must have the one I love.
And so on this day in 1987, after work, a day of hanging doors and running Romex in Mountain View, I took my wife out to dinner. After the meal, we strolled briefly in the fresh springlike evening, the air heavy with the scent of life bursting forth under a bright half moon. I confessed that I was in love with a Ford Ranger V-6 but assured my wife that I still loved her too - though in a different way.
My wife understood.
I've been a Ford guy ever since. I worked that first Ranger to death, so in 1999 I bought another, which I still use to this day. She'll outlive me. Her body may creak at the joints, but still she holds everything I need and she keeps me on a steady path.