While we were gone, Tricia kept the home fires burning and while she was doing chores, she searched on her iPad for "Cowboy Songs" - old country and western type music that was much different from most of the pop-country that you hear today - not necessarily bad - just different. Those songs told stories and invoked memories of earlier, simpler times. When we came back home, she played for us "The Pickup Truck Song," by Jerry Jeff Walker. Behold. Press the arrow on the middle of Jerry Jeff's face below to listen to The Pickup Truck Song. I've posted the lyrics below and my thoughts on riding in pickup trucks follow. Enjoy!
Jerry Jeff Walker
Yea, I used to look forward to Saturdays
When me and my grandpa'd get way
We'd hop in his pickup truck and we'd go to town
We had a couple chores that we had to do
It didn't take long before we were through
Then we'd let the pickup truck just wander around
We'd make a run to the county dump
We'd always wave when we saw someone
Grandpa'd make up a song as we rolled along
To the post office without fail
We get some feed and we'd check out the mail
And we never took the same road twice on the way back home.
I spent a few years out runnin' free
I spent two or three in New York City
And I moved back to Texas tired, hell I'd had enough
I'd go to Luckenbach on Saturdays
Cause Hondo had a way to brighten up my day
He always made me laugh when we rode in his pickup truck
We'd make a run to the county dump
We'd always wave when we saw someone
Hondo'd make up a tale as we rolled along
To the post office without fail
He'd get some chew and we'd check out the mail
And we never took the same road twice on the way back home
Well I miss grandpa and Hondo too
I really miss the things that used to do
So last week I went out and bought me an old pickup truck
Now me and the kids spend Saturdays
We do fun things in a simple way
We love to start the day with a ride in the pickup truck
We make a run to the county dump
We always wave if we see someone
The kids love to make up a song as we roll along
To the post office without fail
We get some stamps and we check out the mail
And we never take the same road twice on the way back home
Half the fun's gettin' lost on the way back home
What a fun song! Jerry Jeff sings this simple song about a simple event - riding in a pickup truck. While I don't own a pickup truck right now, I once did and have numerous memories of riding in pickup trucks growing up. I'll bet you do too.
Being raised on a working farm, a pickup truck was a vital necessity almost as important as the tractor. It was used for constant parts runs to the local John Deere shop, for pulling trailers, wagons, and implements, and as a repository for numerous tools, empty Dr. Pepper cans, and an occasional snapping turtle or two! And kids. Why ride in the front when you can ride in the back and let the wind blow through your hair as you spit. Well you could do that inside the truck if you rolled down the window.
Which makes me think that that is an out-dated term: "Rolling down the window." Do they even make vehicles where you have to manually roll them down or up? I haven't seen one in a while. Even my stripped down Honda Civic has power windows. Anyway, we'd roll down the window as we'd drive down country roads to the parish dump, taking our time and waving to people just like Jerry Jeff did!
We would ride with my paternal grandfather in his pickup truck, which he had converted to run on butane. As we'd fill the tank, the familiar scent of butane would fill the air and we'd touch the ice that built up around the nozzle, even on the hottest of days. When Grandpa drove, the actual road itself was optional. We spent a lot of time driving on the shoulder or in the median. We were always happy when we reached our destination! One time, he backed his truck up to put his bass boat in the lake at Toledo Bend and backed into a truck door that someone had left open, ripping it off the hinges. He never noticed and the gentleman had to find Grandpa out on the lake and tell him of the accident.
My maternal grandfather we called Poppy owned a 1972 Ford Bronco, with the gear shift on the steering column. What a fun truck to drive! We would drive out to the gravel pit in Indian Village west of town and pick out and cut down Christmas trees every year. Actually it was two or three small trees tied together, just ordinary long leaf pines, but they'd look nice once decorated. We'd haul the tree back to their home in the back of the small bed that the Bronco had and then we'd enjoy hot chocolate and sugar cookies.
When I was farming I had a pickup truck and in the fall of 2001, the transmission went out. Actually the reverse band was burnt - the forward gears still worked, so I drove that thing for several months with no reverse. It was a fun challenge to park in creative ways so as not to ever have to back up. Only a few times did I ever have to put it in neutral and get out and push!
Finally, just as Jerry Jeff sings, we would often sing as we drove in pickup trucks - either in the cab singing along with Ronnie Milsap, Don Williams, or Conway Twitty or in the back of the truck with a bunch of friends on the way to work in the rice fields singing the theme song to Rocky III by Survivor, entitled "The Eye of the Tiger". We'd sing it to the top of our lungs: "It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight, rising up to the spirit of our rival..." Singing always sounds better in the shower or from the back of a pickup truck. Lots of things seem better just riding in a pickup truck.
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