The Perils of Pickup Trucks
Somewhere tucked away in my family tree is a property developer. I’ll call him Geoff. He appeared for a few months and then disappeared. However for many years he continued to visit my mother, bearing huge boxes of chocolates and seasonal fresh flowers.
Geoff invited me to lunch at a restaurant. I hadn’t had much to do with him so I was somewhat surprised. It turned out he wanted to explain why he didn’t want to get embedded in my family tree.
I was bemused but sympathetic to his cause as I’d always secretly wished the stork had dropped me down the chimney of a less troublesome family. I felt it was a terrible mistake that I hadn’t ended up with the cheerful family of seven up the road.
Geoff picked me up in his new racy Mercedes Benz. It was a recent model and rather on the hefty size. The interior involved lashings of premium leather and sheepskin covers. It suited him, he was a robust bloke who liked big things. Geoff had a penchant for chunky gold man jewellery, expensive gold Swiss watches and tailored silk shirts.
He suggested I might like to drive his golden chariot to the restaurant. Geoff never travelled anywhere without several bottles of premium champagne clinking in his car boot. I could never work out why – given we lived in a booze soaked city where adult beverages were readily available day and night.
On the way Geoff told me about the accoutrements of his chariot. It was a glamorous piece of machinery and the German engineering ensured a smooth ride. With the air conditioning purring and lay-back music oozing from first-rate speakers, I had to keep watching the speedometer. Mainly because it felt like we were barely moving.
At we whispered along the city streets, I mentioned a motor journalist who’d stated, ‘Only ever buy as much car as your ego requires.’
Geoff smoothly replied that he needed a hell of a lot of car to appease his big ego.
Fast forward to 2023. Geoff has passed on. But I suspect if he hadn’t, he’d definitely be in the market for something about the size of the biggest Toyota HiLuxe. A newspaper journalist noted that they’re about the same size as the Sherman tanks used in World War Two.
Apparently Australia’s city streets are groaning under the weight of Ford F-150s and huge Dodge Rams which weigh around three tonnes. Pickup trucks of this size are hard to park in standard car spaces. They’re no longer mostly owned by hard working tradies but have become the vehicle of choice for cashed up city drivers.
Where I live these vehicles protrude so much when they’re parked that you have to veer around them. There are also visibility safety issues involving small children. They’re hazardous on streets designed for smaller cars and dangerous to cyclists peddling in designated bike lanes and pedestrians. Apparently very few pickup truck drivers ever go off-road.
So – why are such massive vehicles becoming all the rage in the city? And who really needs a truckzilla to do the school run, pick up groceries or negotiate peak hour traffic?
No doubt the late Sigmund Freud could have come up with an answer. After all he was known as the father of psychoanalysis and had a deep interest in our divided selves.
Freud believed we all have an Id (primitive wants and desires – your wild child), Ego (reality, tries to juggle logic and reason – your grown-up self) and Superego (morality, philosophical and morals – your quest for perfection).
Who knows, maybe it all comes down to the wicked old Id sparring with our Ego and Superego?
by Lesley Truffle
photo: by Les Truffle. Restored 1950’s Cadillac with fabulous ’48 fins.