Big Yellow Trucks

Earlier this week, I posted a piece on GeriPal -- Remembering David Solomon -- about one of the great champions of improving care for older adults.  It was a serious piece about someone who I adored and respected.  David recently passed away -- at home surrounded by friends at the age of 90.  I will miss him.  It took me a long time to sit down and write that post but once I did (sit down that is), the piece just flowed out.  Some would call it writing from the heart.

This piece is not so serious nor did it take me so long to sit down and write it.

It's about yellow trucks.  Just two of them to be exact but they are looming large in my photographic truck collection -- beating out the red truck that graced my Junk Yard  Heaven post and the rusted truck that graced one of my early posts -- One Man's Junk.

Big Yellow Truck Blocking the Entrance to the Queensboro Bridge 

Maybe it's because these yellow trucks are still working and they are a LOT bigger than the other two trucks.  Maybe it's some desire on my part to own a truck at some point.  Not that I'm a good driver of trucks mind you.  In fact, I sort of suck at driving trucks.  In a nutshell, they always feel a bit too big to me.  That feeling results in my needing a really big parking lot to park in so I can go far, far away from the other cars.  This creates opportunities for exercise but can also forestall some shopping expeditions because the parking lot is too small and I might have to -- gasp -- back the truck up.

I am expecting to own a car again at some point in my life.  Hopefully by the point in time that I do, the car will be able to totally drive itself.  What the heck, they have cars that can find a space and then parallel park for you right this minute.  I have heard tell that there are cars that can do all of that AND  you don't even need to be in the car!

Ice Road Trucker at the Coldfoot Stop (Summertime)

This post -- which started out to be about yellow trucks mind you -- has forced me to face the grim reality that living in NYC is a little bit like living under a rock when it comes to cars. What ever happened to the woman I used to be -- the one who owned a Mazda RX7 (adored the rotary engine) and who sometimes played tag (metaphorically that is) with Porsches on the I-91 corridor between Cromwell and Hartford, Connecticut.  The woman who subscribed to Car & Driver and had friends who owned 'vettes?

I guess I've moved on in life -- at least until I actually need to own a car again.  NYC is all about public transportation, taxis, and walking.  In other words, why spend money on a car (here, payments, insurance, and parking add up to a mortgage payment in other cities) when there are so many other cool toys out there?

Now where did I put that those copies of National Geographic Traveler and Popular Photography?

Ice Road Truckers - Coldfoot, Alaska in Summertime