After being blasted in my rear-view mirror by the headlights of a gargantuan behemoth that was so wide it barely fit in its lane yesterday, I’d like to take a moment to talk about trucks.

I’m not talking about 18-wheelers, mind you.  I’m talking about all of these Dodge Ram, Chevy Tundra, Ford – whatevers I see more and more of on the road each year.

It used to be that a man (or woman) wanted a small truck to kick around in on Saturdays.  You know, something to go pick up and transport bags of mulch, some boards, or maybe haul away some garbage to the local landfill.  Can’t really do too much of that in the family car, so it was nice to have a small, short-bed truck as a go-to for those kinds of puttering jobs around the house.

The makers of trucks back in the 70’s and 80’s catered to this market.  Trucks were cheap – much cheaper than cars – because no one really wanted them (or needed them).  They were bare bones on options.  You could find a small truck for practically nothing, then use it as a “beater” around town or for when things were going to get dirty.  Go pick up that Christmas tree.  Toss a deer carcass back there from the hunting trip.  Hell, load up the little league team after that win and take them all for ice cream (which I believe – now – is illegal).

Then, something happened.  Each year, the trucks started getting a little bit bigger.  Ads touted pulling power and hauling capacity, like most of America was asking “just how many concrete blocks can I carry in one trip to Home Depot?”  Cabs became bigger, because now – for some reason – it became necessary to haul the spouse and all four kids to church in the weekend workhorse, so a second row of seating was added, extending the cab.

The marketing mantra became “bigger is better”.  Fancier options started to creep in, like heated seats, GPS navigation, and satellite radio.  Listening to the complaints of someone, the bed size was adjusted (due to the loss of space from all of that extra seating).  Longer beds became an option, but we can’t have the wheels taking up all of that valuable hauling space, now can we?  So they extended the wheels outward, making the trucks extra-wide.  Cabs began needing side bars or small ladders to get up into the driver’s side seat.

Two headlights now weren’t enough.  We have to have six state of the art halogen lamps that can pierce the darkness at 500 yards.  Wouldn’t want to hit a rouge squirrel on the back roads, I guess.  Not like you can’t hear one of these things coming from a mile away.

The price of these models – as expected, went up and up.  These days, a “cheap” new truck can be upwards of $38,000.  The 2022 Ford F-150 Raptor?  Get ready to shell out a whopping $70,000 – base price.  That’s a little more than that 1979 Datsun “Li’l Hustler” your uncle had on the farm back in the day.

So let’s take a moment and talk about who’s driving these mammoth vehicles.  That’s right, it’s suburban Moms on their way to soccer practice.  You see them at the grocery store, struggling to get into these two-story monsters and sadly trying to park them in a single space at the mall.  By the way, who’s really hauling anything in beds of these things anymore?  Owners will say “well, it’s there when I need it.”  That’s fine, but how often do you need it – or better yet, how often will you actually use it?  You’re telling me you’re gonna throw a load of crushed stone in the back of that sparkling, candy-apple red Dodge Ram?  Not without a bed liner, you’re not (oh, did I mention that was an additional expense?)  And you still have the cajones to complain that this oversized mode of transportation is killing you on fuel costs?  Sounds like a first-world problem to me.

I applaud the marketing gurus at these auto companies for making the American consumer think they “need” all of this luxury and capacity in an everyday mode of transportation.  Using their logic, it’s a wonder we all don’t carry golf umbrellas on sunny days or have 64 ounces of shark-repellent spray strapped to our belts inside our homes – “just in case”.

All that being said, don’t think I’m not above asking – do you mind if I borrow your truck this weekend? I need to pick up a dresser, but I promise – I’ll throw down some blankets and top off the tank.