Welcome back libido!

Jul 01, 2009 11:02

One of the very best things about yesterday was driving. I know this sounds silly, but since I've been unemployed I've avoided driving almost entirely. I require a half-tank of gas every other week. (I've made a habit of topping up whenever it goes below a half tank. This is a survivalist thing, but it also means I will have enough gas to get me to and from an interview regardless of financial circumstance.)

I LOVE driving. I'm not so keen on traffic or lengthy commutes; but driving is great. Yesterday's trip to Denver and back (via Broomfield) was the most I've driven in weeks and it felt wonderful to race down the highway with the windows down and the tunes playing. Since I haven't been required to drive for a long time, it felt marvelous to get the chance to do it. An extra bonus treat to my day out. (Which also included a trip to the Bookworm and tacos at La Casita.)

So, I'm at a light in Broomfield and I pull up behind a big truck. I nostalgically notice it's a big truck, a Dodge, though not quite as old as the one I used to borrow from my neighbors in high school. I loved that old 1968 wreck. I could barely reach the pedals, but this wasn't a problem since it was a three-on-the-tree shift and the engine was so powerful it tended to siphon it's own gas even when the pedal wasn't pressed. It rumbled along in a way that made you bounce on the spring seats even on the flattest stretch of highway, and it's generous cab not only had the sofa seat up front, but two jump seats in the back, which was my favorite place to sit when I wasn't driving. I loved sitting up above the rest of the traffic and the way I had to use my arms to pull myself into the cab. I loved hauling crap in it and fitting the most friends and relatives I could manage in the cab.

Ever since that truck, I have always loved trucks. I know how people get attached to them, though I haven't been able to justify buying one. I like to say that a man with a truck has his priorities straight because there's only really room for him and two other things in that cab. It will be a combination of the following: him, his best buddy, his dog, his best girl. Any of these three things important, so if he makes room for you, you know that YOU are important.

So, I'm sitting behind this old Dodge truck in traffic having these nostalgic thoughts when I realize that there is a sticker smack in the middle of the gate reading, "Got biodiesel?" Then I notice there is an 'Veterans for Obama' sticker on the rear bumper. And Cornhuskers decals on the back of the cab. I realize I am in the presence of the rare red-state, red-blooded, red-minded, liberal.

"I wonder if he's good looking?" I thought, and pulled around the side as we came through the light. Sure enough, it was your clean-cut all-American sitting in that cab with his mid-size mutt and just enough room for a friend or a girl.

I nearly followed him down the road introduce myself and tell him how much I liked his truck; but I was in a turn lane and let traffic dictate my fate. The man loves his planet. Loves his country. Loves his truck. Someone who is able to hold onto all those contradictions in politics and policy might have room in his life for someone like me.

I am still a sucker for the red-state, red-blooded, man. I notice this every time I cross into Weld or Larimer county. It's like my libido spikes and suddenly I'm finding my head turning everywhere I go. But the most exciting thing about the surge of desire was that it could still happen. I'm unlikely to run into this red-state, red-blooded, red-minded, liberal, again, but it was a heartening reminder that I am still capable of feeling attraction. Or as they like to say, "I'm not dead, yet."

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