An Old Pickup

I’ve been driving an old pickup that I’m borrowing from my father-in-law. Very old school. It’s really not all that old, but it feels like an antique. I mean, hand crank windows, no air conditioning, light doors that feel flimsy, headlights that don’t turn off automatically, manual transmission, and steering that is very, and I mean very, heavy. I think it has to do with the fancy wide wheels some former owner put on it. It’s nearly impossible to make any kind of sharp turn at low speed. It feels like I’m going to pull something in my shoulder! I’ve been driving it around for about a week now because I’m getting a few chairs for my practice and I need something to haul them in.

I headed out the other day to Hayward for a meeting with Abode Services, where I’m hoping to volunteer as a hypnotherapist. And it was raining. My first hint that I needed to be careful was when the truck fishtailed when I pulled out on the main road. I didn’t think I was going that fast. Then, I realized was that the wipers don’t work all that well. Fun. Just like my old Triumph. At thing point, I’m driving pretty carefully, at least I thought I was, until I tried to slow down for a left turn and all four wheels locked up causing me to slide into the intersection. Fortunately there was no cross traffic.

Well, long story short, I made it there and back without further incident, stopping on way back at a thrift shop that I had been meaning to visit anyway. I found a good chair there, for only seven bucks! Such a deal. It’s in pretty good shape but the wood’s a little tired. But, with a little refinishing and some upholstery cleaner, it should look nearly new. If I could find another like it, I’d be in really good shape.

Anyway, shopping today for some trip items. It’s funny how your perspective changes when you’ve been out of work for over a year. (I have a little money coming in from my practice, which is a nice feeling, but it’s not nearly enough to break even.) So I can’t help but wince a little inside whenever I have to buy something. I’ve never really felt like I had a lot of money, even when I was making six-figures, but then, if I needed something that cost less that $20, I didn’t worry about it much. Now, every dollar I spend reminds me of my student days when I had to make every penny count. Things looked up after I started working in computing, with steadily increasing salaries, but with the house and kids, expenses always seemed to track income. I always felt like I was struggling to keep up and put something away.

Driving that old pickup brings it all back. That rusty, noisy, stuffy, uncomfortable, truck with a cracked windshield, dirty, worn upholstery and windows I don’t get around to cleaning properly, makes me feel broke again. I’ve gotten a little tired of the whole Fix It and Make Do ethic. Let someone else do it now. It used to be so much fun and I was so proud that I did all the work myself, until I realized that nobody cares. I don’t get any merit badges or kudos or recognition for all my sweaty hours on the garage floor. Nothing at all.

The same thing about the house. I have saved a ton of money over the years, not to mention the time saved by not having to wait around for a professional to show up, on all kinds of home repairs and improvements, but so what? I suppose I get it, it’s expected. My family has never known anything different. Things just always work, and on those rare occasions when something does happen, it’s fixed quickly, without any fuss. It would have been nice if someone in my family wanted to be more self-sufficient in this way, then I could have taught them, and they would have some idea of what it takes to keep houses, cars, computers and all the other technology around us functioning every day. As it is, my work is pretty much taken for granted.

We very much have a “throw away” culture, encouraged by industry, to discard and replace, rather then fix. I have noticed, when talking to people, that it’s considered a status symbol to throw stuff away. I realize that, in their eyes, working in my yard, fixing my car and even washing my car, marks me as less “successful”.

That is the real culture shock of growing up in this valley. I grew valuing frugality and I’m surrounded by conspicuous consumption. And it’s not just the way people behave, it’s the way products and services are designed and marketed that subtly force you replace things more often than you’d like. Almost without realizing it, I find myself buying into this when I discover that the costs and difficulty of repair make it not worth the trouble. (It doesn’t help that my wife insists, for instance, that any old car must be unreliable simply because it’s old.) In my world, it was a badge of honor to fix your own appliances. Now people clear their throats and change the subject when I talk about it, clearly wondering why I just don’t buy a new one. And pay someone to install it.

I am who I am, and that’s no going to change. Even in this age of digital, disposable, everything, there are plenty of ways to be more self-sufficient. If only for the convenience of it all. It wasn’t that long ago that I was at a get-together where one of the women had a flat tire and AAA was going to take an hour to arrive. I changed her tire, even though she seemed a bit hesitant to let me try. It was almost as though she was shocked that anyone would want to do it.

Waiting around for an hour for someone to do something that you can do yourself in ten minutes, and then pay them for it, is a concept I will never be comfortable with. I can put up with being waited on, when necessary, but I want to be allowed and able to do for myself, cultural differences not withstanding.