10.12.10 - 10:27 am

i borrowed my friend cormacs truck for a job. moved an aquarium from one house to another. that was almost two weeks ago. the convenience of a small pick up has proven to be invaluable in transporting buckets, tables and equipment. the bed of the truck provided ashton and i a brief yet enjoyable place to sit for a carls jr lunch during a sunny afternoon.

but the truth is i just simply enjoy driving it. far more than my kia. far more than julies saab.

call it nostalgia, memories forlorn from a youth long ago. a yellow pick up, from school parking lots to lake billy chinook with the windows down. its chapter ending, hood buried in a wall of mud and brambles.

sure thats part of why ive kept the truck for so long. but just part. im more inclined to understand the enjoyment as something more human than i can remember feeling.

i feel as though modern vehicles rob us of experiencing our vehicular achievement. sure, climate control, heated seats, power steering and noise canceling technology are fascinating advancements to the automobile. the smooth maneuverability, wood and leather interiors and retractable sun roof. great, but almost excessive. the thrill of the automobile comes from the speed at which you hurl your body safely from one place to another and are in control of doing so. the wind in your hair. the sun on your face.

the real enjoyment i experience from this truck is the fact i feel separate from its design. the truck is not an extension of my body nor is it a piece of technology created just to please me. the truck was made independent of my existence and i happen to harness it for my transportation. i put my feet on the pedals and shift pressure in a choreographed routine with my hands. a series of unnatural steps i had to learn. when i accelerate the vehicle, i feel my body accelerate with it. we are moving together because i am willing it to do so. i use the strength in my arms to manually change our course like leading the reigns of some hotblooded animal. i have domesticated the automobile but only so far as its willing to let me believe this. i am inside a machine and i control it. i feel every shift in gear. every uneven surface of road. i manipulate how well the vehicle performs.

this is how sitting in a car or truck is supposed to feel. like we have just tamed an animal just long enough to harness and saddle it, and then our will power alone must control it.

this tiny white pick up with the over sized steel black cage above it. i feel human because i am mastering this machine. this is what the thrill of driving is supposed to feel like.

lost for everyone but me.