Cold Spaghetti

We are once again a two car family. Sort of.

Remember the renovation to the back of the house we’ve been talking about doing since we bought the house? (In our defense, things like having a kitchen, a bathroom, and electricity took precedence.) Well, we are actually starting to really get started. Maybe not soon but some day in a future I actually can see, we may have another working bathroom. With a bathtub. This is all very exciting.

One of the hang-ups we’ve been having is over supplies. Namely, when we need something — rebar for the concrete project outside, bags of concrete, a couple of 2x4s — we have to borrow a truck or do multiple trips with our wagon, taking all sorts of extra precaution to not trash it. Because we do all this stuff ourselves (or, at least, Paul does it — with the help of folks like my Dad and some of our friends — me, my role is budgeting, research, and planning) we needed some sort of vehicle for this work.

So yesterday, Paul bought a TRUCK. Our previous truck (a purple Ford Explorer named Barney) was a serious work truck and was used as such. It was Paul’s baby (think guy and his TRUCK) and we sold it shortly after moving to NOLA because we didn’t use it enough to warrant keeping it. (Plus, living in Michigan had wreaked havoc on the poor thing.) Although he hasn’t said anything to make me believe it, I think that Paul has felt just the tiniest bit lonely without a truck to bounce around in. So we are doing our best to emphasis the manliness of our new set o’ wheels. (I’ll post pictures later… I don’t want to ruin the imagination.)

We have named the truck “IMPACTO ZERO” (dígalo en español, por favor). It is named after IMPACTO UNO, the most tricked out school bus we’ve ever seen (possibly the most tricked out school bus in the world) — the very bus we took bouncing along the mountains of rural Honduras during the two summers we spent there. (IMPACTO UNO was spelled out in huge letters across the windshield and in back — over the spoilers.) In honor of the Impact Uno, we are going to load up a cassette tape with Gypsy Kings’ “Hotel California,” Cecelia Cruz’s “Yo Vivire,” Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean,” and lots of Air Supply to blast as we drive Impacto Zero around New Orleans.

I drove Impacto Zero for the first time today. Like all good trucks, I.Z. is a stick shift. The kind where your foot is almost completely disengaged from the clutch before it even thinks about getting into first gear. For those of you who remember my Sweet First Car, a silver 1981 Dodge Aires K Station Wagon loving named Roxanne (think of the Sting song), Impacto Zero is like a long lost brother. When I shift in the I.Z. the handle of the gear shift comes off in my hand. The passenger side door only opens from the inside. The A/C only works when set on “Max.” The fuel gauge is broken (“just fill it up when the odometer reaches 200 miles”). And at least one random dashboard light is on for no reason for the entire ride.

It’s just a tiny pick-up — no backseat. I love driving it, but there is no chance either kid will be going anywhere in it. So, while we are a two car family, only one is actually a family car. This is Paul’s workin‘ truck!

We picked it up for $2750 and are carrying minimal insurance on it; we hope to sell it in a few months when we’re done with the renovation (stop laughing. we WILL finish it!) Other that the few minor oddities, it runs just fine, the engine is beautiful, and there are only 92,000 miles on it. I’ll post pictures soon. Until then, take the opportunity to tell Paul about the coolness of his seriously manly truck.