Ministries
When mentioning riding in style, one assumes it means riding in a big ol’ Caddie or Mercedes convertible with the wind blowing through the hair. That is not necessarily so in my case. Sure, it would be nice if I owned a Caddie, which I did, or a Mercedes convertible, which I did not own, but I did drive one if that counts. My riding’ in style is started on the back of a pickup.
Dad owned a 1950s Chev - rolet truck with a five-speed manual back in the day. Rabbit trail: What does it mean back in the day anyway? It could mean yesterday, I suppose.
However, for this article, it means when I was about six years old or so. And that was way back in the day! When we went out to the pasture to check on the cows down past Mentz church, it was a pretty good drive. Sonny, Bonnie and I would climb into the back of the truck and go for a ride.
The truck had a headache rack between the bed and the cab. Usually, it was used so items such as hay, metal and kids wouldn't go flying through the back window if a sudden stop was needed.
Somewhere about midway, we would stand up in the bed and hang on to the rack and feel the wind whip through our hair and blow against us.
The sun would be shining and we would look up at the white clouds as we went one way and the clouds went the other. We were riding in style until dad would spit out his tobacco juice from his Beechnut chew! The wind tends to whip around the cab and so does the tobacco.
It was always an argument about who would be on dad’s side of the truck when we rode in the back.
I thought I was riding in style when I got my first bike. I got a brand new shiny chrome bike for Christmas. It happened to be too big for me to ride at the time. I had to wait for a good while for me to enjoy the stylin’ that goes with a flashy bike with cardboard flaps pinned to the front and back tires.
Growing up I had cool fast cars and motorcycles. As I got older, I had a Chevy van, a Jeep and big fancy cars.
Now that I sit and write this article, I can only remember riding in style in the back of that old Chevy truck without a care in the world - except for dodging tobacco juice.
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Luke 12:25 - “And which of you by worrying can add one hour to his life’s span?”
