The Greatness of the Beast

What’s so great about our 1965 Ford F100 pickup truck (aka The Beast)? Let me count the ways:

• The truck has a manual choke. What’s so fantastic about this? Young people have no idea what it is. This vehicle will never be stolen except by a septuagenarian criminal! It is also delightful to hear the adventures of the youngsters who borrow the truck, since they invariably stall the engine first time out.

• The Beast will never crumple due to the impressive gauge of its sheet metal. Loss of integrity due to rust is never a worry. On the other hand, there are disadvantages to the heavy bodywork: There is always the fear of squishing a modern vehicle in a collision. (Driving a bug has new meaning in this context.)
• The hubcaps are charming, if you are very short-sighted (which I am).

• My husband has not asked for an expensive vehicle since we bought the truck. However, on occasion, I must remind him that sports cars make men look unattractively middle-aged. (They do, I assure you.)
• Frequent breakdowns justify our car club membership.
• The Beast is a replacement for the gym, since the truck has no power steering or power brakes.
• The Beast is manly. That makes the other three drivers in the family very happy. I can’t drive the truck except in a standing position: There is no other way to reach the pedals. Apparently, short women didn’t drive trucks in the 1960s. Discrimination through design was actually a thing back then. Who knew? (I wish that was a shocking concept.) But have no fear! The roads are safe. This short woman does not drive the Beast. She prefers to have her bum on a seat.

For more about the 1965 Ford 100 aka The Beast, visit:

The Numerate Ninny