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Truck Lust

Maybe I've been wearing my cowboy boots a little too often.  Maybe it's the environment.  Or maybe it's the thrice-weekly trips to Hope Depot, as I inadvertently referred to it in a recent email to my husband, the subject being my surprise at finding an entire aisle of drill bits, and my subsequent dismay that not one had flashing lights and loud sirens announcing that it was precisely the right 1/8 inch drill bit for my Makita, a brand that doesn't seem to warrant much shelf space in these here parts.

Whatever the reason, I've had trucks on the brain.  Not just any old truck.  What I have in mind is an old, funky truck. (But one that, in my fantasy, is already beautifully restored and runs perfectly.) Kind of like the one Clint drove when he was romancin' Meryl in Bridges of Madison County. 

Besides the obvious aesthetic appeal, I want to be able to toss things into the back and not worry about it. Like flea market finds, furniture, a bike, or tree stumps, for example, like the ones I "found" last Sunday.

Liberatedstumps_1

OK, I suppose liberated is the more appropriate way to put it.  I had walked into town to see what was supposed to be the demolition of a landmark building.

Panhandlemillingcoa

Panhandlemillingcob

Beloved icon to some, dangerous eyesore to others, it's still the tallest building in town, and, decrepid or not, you have to admit it has a certain falling-down charm.

Had the demolition gone as planned, I would have missed it completely, as it had been scheduled for 6:30 a.m., not 10:30 a.m., which was when I sauntered by. Apparently some 200 townsfolk had gathered earlier, and an enterprising coffee and donuts seller, too.  But much to the crowd's chagrin, there were no explosions.  No bulldozers.  No heavy equipment of any kind. 

Later I read that it was your run-of-the-mill (pun gleefully intended!) delay, something about proper permits not being pulled.  Not the eleventh hour "Save the Old Grain Mill" governor's pardon that I had hoped for. 

Still, with the crowds long gone, the opportunity to poke around -- and how many more would there be? -- was irresistable. As I made my way toward the abandoned Panhandle Milling Co. Hi Quality Feeds Seeds building, unbidden thoughts raced through my mind.  Like how all this old wood could surely be put to (my own) good use. 

If only I had a truck.

It was at that exact moment that it kicked in. The truck lust.

If only I had a truck. No one would miss a few pieces of this old rotten wood, or even a truckload, for that matter.  They were just going to bulldoze it anyway, for cryin' out loud. It'd be kind of like a little souvenir. Everyone does that. I'd put on my work gloves, grab a few select planks, toss them in the bed of my truck, and speed off to my doesn't-exist workshop. Where I'd no doubt craft pricey "primitive" furniture made from the genuine remains salvaged from one of Idaho's oldest grain mills.

Oh, the sheet metal. I could envision how I'd use it to panel my unfinished garage, kind of This Old House meets Orange County Choppers.

Fan

And that fan.  It's a work of art in itself. 

Reassured by my creative duty, I ducked under the string roping off the perimeter, with barely a glance at the No Trepassing sign. Inside the not-quite-gutted structure were even more treasures. I was so involved imagining my interview with Katie, and the subsequent influx of new clients that I tripped on said genuine remains, narrowly avoiding a nasty encounter with some exposed nails.

Notquitegutted

I advanced more gingerly. So much raw material. 

If only I had a truck.

Not that I would ever give in to such evil thoughts. How's that for willpower? And luckily I had walked over.  Besides, there were limits to how much I could cram into the trunk and back (leather upholstered) seats of the Volvo.

I was about to leave the scene of my would-be-crime when my gaze landed on the tree stumps. I picked one up.  It wasn't as heavy as it looked.  My eyes narrowed.  They would be mine. They would become found Zen sculptures. Truck or no truck.  But why walk home shouldering a tree stump, which might arouse suspicion? Besides, I could only carry one at a time.  I wanted all five.

So later I returned, my heart racing, in the Volvo. It was still light. Clearly, desire had emboldened me. Amazingly, no one else was around.  Where were all the other bounty hunters? I hauled my stumps, one by one, flicking off dirt, spiders, and carpenter ants with uncustomary aplomb. Back home, gazing from the hammock at my stumps, I felt nothing short of triumphant. 

I know. I'm going straight to hell. 

That being the case, why go in a handbasket if I can go in a truck? And suddenly, it appeared. This very afternoon. I was driving with my son, whom I'd picked up at the Spokane International Airport earlier in the day. We were practically home, about 12 miles south of Sandpoint, when to my left I saw a brilliant flash of red metal and gleaming chrome, just resting there, waiting in a green meadow, as if in a dream. I slammed into the middle turn lane and spun a fine u-ee.

A gravel road took me to it.  I got out, and walked across the grass.  And there it was. Preening between the road and the entrance to the Cocolalla Corner Antiques shop, which I'd never even noticed before. (And a very nice shop it turned out to be, with an equally nice proprietor, Donna Johnson.)

Front

Yes, a 1964 Ford F100.  A classic example of American automotive engineering and styling. And one of the best-selling trucks of all time.

You can imagine, then, my delight at seeing this:

Forsale1

Why the price was going up instead of down, I don't know.  I didn't care. Inside on the dash was another sign.  "It's going to be painted in April or May July or August, then the price goes up to $2,900."

Damn.  I called my husband as soon as I got back on the road. "You're not going to believe the truck I saw," I said. "This may be the one."

Oddly enough, in this strangely parallel life we lead, my husband had also spied a truck he thought would be perfect for me. A truck, as it turned out, that was also a Ford F100.  Random coincidence?  Perhaps.  Or are the transportation angels telling me to get my butt in gear before Earle Scheib gets a hold of it. The truck that is.

And now, more beauty shots. 

Rfront

Rfrontsupercu

So there's a little paint damage.

Beautyshot_2

And it needs a new windshield.

Lfront

Just look at those wheels, those hub caps!

Asecondlook

It even comes with the camper and an extra set of tires!

(To be continued.)

July 23, 2005 in Stranger in a Strange Land | Permalink | Comments (5)

Snow strands travelers in New York

But luckily, I was not among them.

Timessquare3_2

Times Square, Saturday, 12:30 AM, as viewed from the 41st floor at the Marriott Marquis, taken after I walked back to the hotel, (which was only a few blocks away, thank goodness,) following an excellent media dinner hosted by American Honda. It was great fun to catch up with old friends and meet new moto-journalists. It was also only 4 degrees.

117timessquare

Timessquarereuters_1

Times Square Photo by Chip East/Reuters.This is what it looked like later that same day. Wind and snow made travel difficult as many flights from the three New York airports were cancelled for a second day in a row. (We had already gotten out of the city by this time.)

My colleague and I had arrived in Manhattan Thursday evening and checked into the Marriott Marquis. The front desk clerk happened to be a recent transplant from Fullerton, Calif. and she upgraded me to a room on the 41st floor directly overlooking Times Square. For reasons that go well beyond common courtesy, I always make it a practice to be friendly with the hotel staff. It has often paid off in just such a way.

Following a breakfast meeting Friday morning with a publisher, we headed over to the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center to get our media credentials for the Cycle World International Motorcycle Show. In addition to connecting with industry contacts and other manufacturing representatives, we cruised up and down every aisle, checking out all the vendors and exciting new products.

Then we had to make a decision whether to leave early or risk (with absolute certainty) being snowbound for days. I can’t say I didn’t hesitate, despite the dire storm predictions.

Hmmm. Stranded in a nice hotel with a great view, unlimited dining options, maid service, high-speed Internet access, hours of uninterrupted time to catch up on work and writing projects, plus a TV remote all to myself. What’s not to like?

Tempting as it was, there was no avoiding the fact that I needed to be back in the office Monday morning, so I agreed, glumly, that we should change our flights from Sunday to Saturday.

Good thing.

Flurries started, as predicted, right around noon yesterday. After a thorough de-icing routine that reminded me of a drive-through car wash, our 1:00 PM flight made it out only a few minutes behind schedule.

Others weren’t so lucky. According to today’s New York Daily News, “At Kennedy Airport, a cargo plane slid off the powder-coated runway around 3:30 p.m., but no injuries were reported. By midafternoon, nearly all passenger flights had been canceled at Kennedy, LaGuardia, and Newark airports, and it was unknown when they would be able to reopen.”

The article also reported that “…the National Weather Service said 13.8 inches fell in Central Park, 17.5 in Brooklyn, 16.5 in Farmingdale, on Long Island, and 19.6 in West Babylon.”

My colleague had never been to New York so we had to make the most of what little time we had. And since going to see the new MOMA wasn’t at the top of his list (as it was mine), we braved the frigid wind to walk a couple of blocks from the Convention Center up to Pier 83 where the famous and decidedly touristy Circle Line boats are docked. My husband, who lived in New York City off and on for nearly three decades and had more than his fill of showing visitors around, had recommended the Circle Line as one of the best ways to see some of the City’s most well-known landmarks.

He was right.

Here are some of my shots:

1circlelineice_1

The two-hour semi-circle Circle Line tour starts at Pier 83 just north of Jacob K. Javits Convention Center and winds around to the East side of Manhattan up to the Queensboro Bridge before turning back around.

2iceonhudson_6

No, this wasn’t taken from a National Graphic article on Antarctica, this was the Hudson as the Captain eased our boat onto the river.

3circlelinepier_2

When we set out, it was brilliantly clear and bitingly cold.  (To say the least.)

4hudsongwbridge_1

That’s New Jersey on the left, and the George Washington bridge in the distance. And yes, lots of ice on the Hudson River.

5empirestbldg2

The Empire State Building is stunningly omnipresent, and definitely worth the wait to go to the observation deck (which I did in December 2001.) It measures 1,453 feet, 8 9/16 inches tall to the top of the lightning rod. Now, of course, it’s the tallest building in New York.

6pier64empirestate

There it is again, behind a dilapidated, abandoned Pier 64.

7drivingrange

This one is for my Dad. I’m sure he’ll recognize what it is immediately, though I didn't – a driving range. At the Golf Club at Chelsea Piers, there are 52 heated and weather-protected hitting stalls on four levels, an automatic ball tee-up system, 200-yard, net-enclosed artificial turf fairway with distinct greens and hazards, two Full Swing Simulators, and the on-site Golf Academy. We couldn’t tell if anyone was out there on this particular day. It might have been the temperatures in the low teens and 35 mph winds that dissuaded them.

8groundzerorecon

In 1913, the 60-story Woolworth Building, designed by American architect Cass Gilbert and visible here in the center of the image dwarfed by the surrounding structures, was the tallest in the world. If the Twin Towers were still standing, you wouldn’t be able to see it at all from this vantage point. The building to the left of the Woolworth Building, is, if I recall our guide’s comments correctly, the seventh tower of the World Trade Center, currently undergoing reconstruction.

Winter Garden, the glass structure in the foreground, is a huge space with a 120-ft high vaulted glass ceiling and sixteen 40 ft. tall palm trees, (yeah, so?) where free music, dance and theater productions are held regularly, and which was repaired amazingly quickly after the September 11th tragedy. A glass wall on the west side of the Winter Garden is said to be the best place to see Ground Zero.

9skyline

With the winter afternoon sun glinting off highrise buildings, the view of the now uniform skyline, though still spectacular, just isn’t right, and never will be. The Twin Towers would have dominated this picture, reaching above the top of the frame, just about where the building with the crane is, roughly a third of the way over from the left.

10sol3

At sunset and always, the Statue of Liberty offers a welcome and visceral reminder of our country’s strength, resilience, and commitment to freedom.

From the government website: Located on 12-acre Liberty Island in New York Harbor, the Statue of Liberty was a gift of international friendship from the people of France to the people of the United States and is one of the most universal symbols of political freedom and democracy. The Statue of Liberty was dedicated on October 28, 1886 and was designated a National Monument on October 15, 1924. The Statue was extensively restored in time for her spectacular centennial on July 4, 1986.

11brooklynbridge2

Sailing under the spectacular Brooklyn Bridge, there's that pesky ol' Empire State building again, lit up in plain white lights.

12bridgessolsunset2

Heading up towards the Queensboro Bridge, in this photo, Manhattan is on the right, and the Manhattan Bridge is in front of the Brooklyn Bridge. The Statue of Liberty is barely visible to the right of the thicker tower of the Brooklyn Bridge.

13skyline

This sparkly cityscape includes my favorite Manhattan landmark, the distinctly art deco Chrysler Building, designed by architect William Van Alen, built between 1928 and 1930. It also has one of New York’s less photographed structures, the steaming power plant on the right.

14skyline7

Goodnight, New York City.

January 23, 2005 in Stranger in a Strange Land | Permalink | Comments (0)

Same as it ever was

Nytstreetbox

Does John Schwartz get TMI when he buys a colleague’s iPod? 

Not really. 

Read To Know Me, Know My IPod, in today’s Week in Review.

November 28, 2004 in Stranger in a Strange Land | Permalink | Comments (0)

Beach Blanket Blandness: MTV Portrays Laguna Beach Students as A-List Losers

GrouppicI watch “Laguna Beach,” the so-called reality show on MTV, with the same mixture of horror and fascination you feel when you’re slowly driving by a really bad car crash. You don’t want to look, but you can’t help it.

I recognize the beaches. I recognize downtown. I recognize the Surf and Sand Hotel. But I don’t recognize any of these characters. Because these teenagers have to be characters. They can’t be real high school kids. At least I hope and pray that they’re not.

My son is only 10, so I don’t know many high school-aged kids. But if the students at Laguna Beach High School are really anything like that, if that's the top of the social strata, we may have to move.

Continue reading "Beach Blanket Blandness: MTV Portrays Laguna Beach Students as A-List Losers" »

October 27, 2004 in Stranger in a Strange Land | Permalink | Comments (11)

Would you trust this man to be an Editor in Chief? Of anything?

GVdLcirca1970

This is the photo I tried (without success) to post as part of a comment on Gerard's website, American Digest, to help illustrate his fond recollections about his earliest publishing endeavors, which somehow all ties in with today's post on bread and fishing and blogging and bloating, or was it bleating?

This was my comment there:

I don't know, would you have trusted this free-minded radical hippie Editor-in-Chief?

Isn't he looking just a little too bright-eyed, and perhaps a tad bit on the happy side? Well, you would be too if you were sporting not only a super cool headband, but also a groovy macrame pouch. Yes, courtesy of the other Mrs. VdL, my adorable mother-in-law Lois, it is my pleasure and privilege to share this rare glimpse of one of Gerard's proudest sartorial moments. My only question is, where's his Army blanket thrift shop poncho?

September 02, 2004 in Stranger in a Strange Land | Permalink | Comments (2)

WARNING: Gratuitous Paris Hilton Photo

paris_hilton_cropped.jpg

Way before she gained notoriety for her sex tapes, way before she bought the farm in the reality series "The Simple Life," Paris could be seen flitting around New York wherever there might be a camera present. Here she sits atop the "Ninja by Noir," a Kawasaki ZX-12R adorned with 50,000 crystals. The photo was taken in 2001 at a media event hosted by Swarovski at the Hudson Hotel in NYC. Accompanying Paris is her sister Nikki. The originator of the Crystal concept, Leeora Catalan, who is the head designer at Noir, a NYC-based accessory and clothing company, is pictured at left. This was from my Kawasaki days. And Gerard and I were there.

January 21, 2004 in Stranger in a Strange Land | Permalink | Comments (0)

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Recent Posts

  • A winter's walk
  • Jackson and the newest member of the family
  • Life in the Panhandle
  • Truck Lust
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  • Snow strands travelers in New York
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