Dear readers: please take the following quiz. Have you ever been in a parking lot and looked to your right and left only to see hoop-sized hubcaps on either side? Have you ever felt the need for a periscope just to back your car out at Wal-Mart? Has another driver ever used the roof of your vehicle as a doormat? If you answered “yes” to any of these questions, you may be one of three people left in the state of Arkansas who does not drive a big truck.
Here are some questions for the rest of you. Does your transport come complete with an attic and crawl space? Does it take your vehicle more than 40 seconds to cross the state line? When you first drove it off the dealer’s lot, did someone smash a bottle of champagne against the tailgate? If so, it may be that your truck is too big.
In case you haven’t noticed, monster trucks have taken over the south. They haven’t taken over the north yet because a state like Rhode Island does not have a parking lot big enough. But while 18-wheelers used to own the roads, I have seen these big-rigs cower in fear at the sight of an approaching Ford F150.
A close friend recently let me ride in his brand-new black 4×4. As I was walking down the gangplank after the trip, my friend asked me what I thought of his pride and joy. I said, “It’s great — when does it have to be back at the weigh station?” He didn’t talk to me again for three days. I have discovered that, contrary to stereotype, the owners of big trucks are very sensitive.
It must cost a fortune to fuel these things. Yesterday I saw an off-road truck drive away from the Exxon Station, after which the clerk put up a sign that read “Closed – No More Gas.” Just the cost of indoor camouflage carpeting alone must be enormous. Not to mention the expense of all those accessories. But now that I look into it, I may need a Rockstomper rock tie rod for my Camry.
I am at a loss to understand the popularity of “Jabba-the-Truck.” While I suppose there is some benefit to being able to drive your vehicle up and down the sides of the Grand Canyon, I think this fad may be the result of a lingering Cold War mentality. I truly believe that many big truck owners fear a nuclear disaster and are confident that they could ride it out in the bed of their trucks, surviving for weeks on Mountain Dew and pork rinds.
With a tip of the cowboy hat to Jeff Foxworthy, let me say this to truck owners. If tourists with Hawaiian shirts have ever mistaken your vehicle for a princess cruise to the Bahamas, your truck just might be too big. If the defense department has ever called to borrow your vehicle, your truck might be too big. If the three things on Earth that can be seen from outer space are the Great Wall of China, the Sears Tower and your Ford super duty pickup, then your truck just might be too big.
While the rest of the country seems resigned to accept the new status quo, I am prepared to take a stand. I will stand up for my right to get out of my car in the sunlight and not in the shadows. I will stand up for my right to be able to see around the vehicle in front of me without installing a crow’s nest. I will stand up for my right to find my Toyota in a parking lot without having to climb a flagpole. Sadly though, no one will see me standing because of all the trucks.
Dr. Claxton is on sabbatical this semester. This column originally appeared on Sept. 8, 2006, much to the annoyance of his now-retired department chair, whose truck was so big it had its own bowling alley and shooting range in the cab.
