Tribute to Mr. Beast

How do I say 'thank you' to a truck?
How do I give him the gratitude he deserves?

We have had our 1997 Ford Powerstroke, F250, 4-door, turbo-ed truck (aka Mr. Beast) going on nine years, I believe. We bought him from Scott's Dad. And all these years, Mr. Beast has served us incredibly well. This winter in particular, because of it's extreme nature, Mr. Beast has proved his worth beyond our capacity to communicate.

Especially with the new tires Big O put on this fall, that truck has never been more amazing in extreme conditions as now.

I have a feeling that our truck has gone through a bit of winter depression in past years. He has felt a lack of excitement. He has felt his worth deteriorate and lost enjoyment in his usual activities. But this year, with all the snow and ice and tough road conditions, I know that our truck has felt a new sense of joy and worth. It's like he knows he is needed and he realizes his value to us more than ever. All the challenging, winter road conditions have renewed his sense of purpose and well-being. He has never felt better. I can feel it when I start him up in the morning to take Kate to school. I can feel it when he gets a good washing or a fueling. This is his finest year. This is the year he was made for. I know he has hoped for a winter like this, all his life.

I think our truck struts around town. I think he looks at all the other vehicles and beams with pride at them. I'm sure he smiles politely at the cars and trucks covered in snow from being left in the elements. But inside, he probably says to himself, "I have a garage all to myself! I only share it with the snow-blower and a few tools." When the new trucks and cars roll, bumper-to-bumper or strut-to-strut from him and mock his age, size, sound, smell, or style, he just revs on and thinks to himself, "Ha! Just you watch. You think I'm old... You think I'm outdated... Old ways are better, kiddos. My body is 100% real - no fiberglass fabrications on me. My people bought me the very best kicks out there and I can MOVE! I can haul a massive load. I can carry 6 in seat belts. I can do any dirty job and still shine up nicely for a date on the town. You can listen to my turbo whistle as I speed on past. I'm faster than you think. I'm big enough to push anybody around. And I can get through anything."

Yes, he smells. He is loud. He provides a warning of our arrival at least a minute before us. I am certain he pollutes the air proving it with a long, black cloud of smoke when we accelerate. His ride is recklessly bumpy and nearly amusement-park-like. He requires agility just to hop in. He has nearly unsightly, maroon interior. But he protects us. He gets us anywhere we want to go. And he is ours. 


I'm still not sure how to show adequate appreciation to Mr. Beast, but I don't plan on upgrading or replacing him anytime in the future. That guy has a place in our family as long as he can hang on.