an extended meditation on presence (we also have chickens)
On my way out to the farm for my niece's birthday this weekend, I hit a deer. I lost. The deer also lost.
It is statistically inevitable, living where I do, that some percentage of drivers will hit deer in any given fall. It's actually kind of amazing that I've been driving here for 25 years, yet this is the first deer I have hit.
(While driving. My parents clocked one good when I was an infant, and one bounced off our passenger door when I was seven or eight. My uncle hit no fewer than five over four years with his old school yacht of a Buick; we assumed that car was indestructible until Deer 5 welded the hood to the radiator. That same uncle took off half his own thumb with a crossbow trying to shoot another deer from his porch later that year. Yes, I have a very entertaining family.)
So my car is at the shop, and I'm driving one of the farm pickup trucks. Thanks, I hate it.
I should be grateful. Usually, when one of us needs to borrow a car, we get the "Danger Ranger." The Danger Ranger is a 1996 Ford Ranger that has, shall we say, Been Through It. One of my brothers even rolled it over into a ditch once; its roof is still dented from that escapade.
Unlike my uncle's Buick, the Danger Ranger is in fact impervious to deer. It's not impervious to deer *damage* - several of its dents and scars are deer-related - but it has proven, over its 30 years, that it can hit a deer at unsafe speeds and keep going.
We don't know why the Danger Ranger still runs. This truck is more rust than frame. Its oil change schedule is "nope." Its brake pads make up for in concept what they lack in execution. It has a clutch, I guess, somewhere. The Danger Ranger is the soulmate of the 1999 Toyota Corolla:
https://www.craigslist.org/about/best/hou/6565526716.html
Fortunately for me, my parents decided the Danger Ranger is no longer allowed off the farm property (2 dangerous 5 me). They didn't even renew its plates this year. Instead I got the Plow Truck.
The Plow Truck is a 2015 Chevy Silverado (extended cab, full bed, etc), with a downright fancy 91,000 miles on her. Just a baby. A sweet young thing. And I know I enjoy Being Alive and all, but honestly, Plow Truck has me missing the Danger Ranger.
Because she's so young, the Plow Truck runs well. A little too well for a farm truck. Like it's tryna be all bougie n shit. Starts every time you turn the key. Ooh la la, big spender.
Both headlights work. Both taillights work. I'm 99 percent sure this thing has those little white lights that light up when you put it in reverse. THIS TRUCK GOES IN REVERSE. Shit, my first car (a 1984 Renault) didn't even go in reverse. What kinda automotive sorcery is this?
Also, it's an automatic. AN. AUTOMATIC. The fuck is this shit? The shit is this fuck?
The Plow Truck is a few years newer than my Corolla, so it has a bunch of weird features I'm not used to. It has a little "message center" thing where the odometer is. I looked down on my way home and instead of the mileage, I got "Ice could form, drive with care." I felt like I was in an X-Files episode. Like the next time I look at it, it's going to say "CRASH IT, KILL THEM ALL."
I'm not sure the Plow Truck crashes. It's got a bigass dent in the side from, you guessed it, a deer. But I'm also not going to take chances. After all, if I roll the Plow Truck, I forfeit my right to give my brother shit for rolling the Danger Ranger. I'm a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter than he is; I need to take my advantages where I can get them.
Besides, it'd probably cost a fortune to fix this truck if I do crash it. I bet this bougie bastard has a bunch of pricey *~*sensors*~* and shit all up in its front end. And its rear end. Just all collecting data to tattle via its little OnStar button, which I will never in a million years actually press. If I can't get myself out of a Situation then I fucking well deserve to die in it. FARM TRUCK.
(The parents did have the basic human decency to let me leave the plow behind, after much deliberation and many promises from me that, should it snow in the next three days, YES I WILL COME BACK AND REATTACH THE PLOW. The weather forecast doesn't even have us dropping below freezing for the next week and a half.)
This truck is having an identity crisis. It's too fancy for a farm truck; it's too beat up for a city truck. This truck doesn't understand what the hell a "city truck" is. I said the words "city truck" to it and its little message center said "DID YOU MEAN: PENIS EXTENDER."
Case in point: This truck hates parking lots. And parking spaces. OH DID YOU WANT TO PARK IN THIS SPACE, TOO BAD, HOW ABOUT TWO SPACES. It took me three tries to get it into a parking space in the staff lot at school. Sure, it's because I'm used to driving God's gift to automotive engineering, the 2009 Toyota Corolla, but also it's because the Silverado is not meant to occupy something as plebian as a parking lot. THE SILVERADO WISHES TO ROAM FREE. FIND A DEER. HIT IT.
and win this time.
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