They brought a load of hay out here a few days ago, three big huge round bales and about 100 square bales. While they were unloading it, my wife Annie drove off in her big giant Ford F250 Heavy Duty Turbo-Diesel Crew Cab Lariat package pickup truck. The hay guy watched her drive off, then looked back at my little Ford Ranger mini-pickup still in the driveway.
"So she drives that big ol' truck and you have that li'l one, hunh?" he said.
"Um, yeah, that's right," I said, abashed.
He nodded knowingly. "Just moved out here, didn't ya?" Then he patted me on the back comfortingly and moved on out into the field to help unload the bales.
I'm thinking of buying a semi next week, just to have a vehicle -- any vehicle -- bigger than hers. Because out here in the country, apparently, size does matter.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Please Tell Me Size Doesn't Matter ...
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Hello? Is this thing on?
I look forward to seeing you behind the wheel of a vehicle larger than your wife's. It's gotta have bigger engine, too. Bigger AND stronger. *flex*
Jeff -- how long you been in Texas? For these Texans, size is EVERYTHING! We don't have hot dogs at ballgames, we have giant Astro dogs. We don't super size things at restaurants, we "Texas-size" them. The capacity for bragging in Texas is legendary, and I always get a chuckle out of how they brag on everything. Right before Christmas, I got a call at the newspaper that the Wall Street Journal was doing a story on neighborhoods that decorate for Christmas, and they were going to have Pecan Grove in there. I got the name of the reporter (she's up in New York), and we chatted about it. Said she found PG on the Web when searching for lighting contests. A few days before press, the reporter called me back and apologetically said that the neighborhood would only get one line in the story. That was okay, I reassured her. In Texas, they brag on everything, and one line in the Wall Street Journal was definite bragging rights down here!
And as far as that truck, you gotta learn how to hitch up your pants, spit and then say, "It's not the size of the truck, hoss, it's what's underneath the hood that counts... wink and spit."
By the way, "John" -- is that a family member or John from college?
I think that's John Hartwell, yes. Exciting, innit?!
John Hartwell, inna hiz-ouse!
I can't believe all the women in my life have bigger trucks than me. Sigh. But soon, SOON I will have a tractor as well, and if you add the tonnage of the tractor to the truck ...
Well, OK, still won't beat y'all but at least I will be closer.
Sigh.
shoot Jeffrey. Think of it this way. You have a manly truck. Me, I finally got a new car. The little blue Escort with the dent in the door is no more. With what was it replaced, you ask? A Focus. Yes, that's right...a Focus. Ah, that I could be so manly as a Ranger!
But don't forget that I, a mere woman as well, have a tractor named "Arnold" that is a very big and manly tractor. In fact, I have TWO tractors!
Great, now I'm less manly than my wife AND my sister. Woo hoo.
Size does matter, but you ARE an HEBERT so No problem bro
John Hartwell -- a blast from the past! What's up? I'm Jeff's oldest sister and I came to see you guys a couple of times. Diane really does have that huge tractor, and it's one hunk of a beast, let me tell ya! Joey, great comment. Remember Dad's explanation about bank walkers?! The guys at work were aghast that I actually knew that term.
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