As an American, I grew up with this idea, naturally, that pick up trucks were awesome. What little boy doesn't like the big roar of any massive motor vehicle, be it a garbage truck, steam roller, etc.? I've never had one - a pickup that is. For a while I hoped to get a Toyota Tacoma. Toyotas are reliable. Tacomas are trucks. My dad, who was a mechanic for 30+ years, would have probably approved. Every time I kill a car, thus initiating a new car-buying season of life, I can imagine the tense arguments we will have:
- Why I killed the car, and how I shouldn't have.
- How I need to be reasonable and smart. I need something reliable, with cheap insurance, retains lasting value, and helps the 'murican economy.
There's actually nothing inherently wrong with those very valid challenges and considerations. Father-son stubbornness simply triumphs. Yet, damnit, I could never afford a truck anyways. For that, I am now thankful. Over the last few years in particular I have grown particularly disinterested in American cars. This goes as far as badges are concerned rather than the actual components making up the car. I heard on NPR recently, that many American cars are hardly American on their insides nowadays.
In my job, I drive anywhere from 2 to 4 hours a day. Lately, I've noticed and smelt a large number of tailgaters, and, low and behold, they seem to often be American-badged pickup trucks. This is true in Ohio at least.
Any who, it's making me crazy. In some bizarre universe, I might appreciate all the near death experiences from these entitled bastards who seem to think they're actually driving bulldozers and tanks. In that world I might love these goon Dodge Rams and Ford F150s trying to stop as close to the rear of my Volvo as possible when I brake because the flow of traffic. Alas, I exist in reality where truck drivers throw around angry hands and play the game of how-many-times-can-I-switch-lanes-and-not-get-further-than-anyone-else.
I am a lover, not a fighter, but I do admit that I day dream of assisting these truck drivers to the same impending doom I feel every time they get so close and dear.
It seems there is this sense of entitlement drivers get from being American and only driving "American" trucks. As an American, I am growing bitter. Can't we all enjoy the open country roads as a friendly community of motor-lovers? Disclaimer: I am not a slow driver, may it be known. I just am not willing to sniff the rear end of the car in front of me in hopes of aggressively forcing them into another lane.
It's an ironic loop, really.
Pickup trucks tailgate -> I feel threatened like a badger -> I refuse to move over in self-defense -> pickup drivers get threatened and angrily continue to tailgate me or another sorry soul.
Death to tailgating!
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