I am a loyal SUV owner. I love my truck – and not just because I’m a transplanted southerner (or is it implanted?). My truck is cozy, roomy and most importantly it provides the necessary Tony Stark armor- like heft allowing me to compete on that NASCAR track that is the Metro-Atlanta highway system.
My truck is more than well broken in, and like my frugal ancestors I’ve ridden my truck into the six figures, much like John Sr. did with his Plymouth Duster and his Rambler before that.
Unfortunately, it may soon be the time to stimulate the economy (and my credit score) by buying a new vehicle.
I’d love to get another truck but with gas prices climbing like the price of a Jeremy Lin jersey at Modells, I have taken to giving some serious thought to giving up my SUV for something with a higher MPG.
But then something happened that has persuaded me to maintain my membership in the 4×4 club.
Last week I had to pick up a Helium tank. I needed to make my voice higher for Bee Gees night at the karaoke bar down the road!
I was tasked with picking up the He for the purpose of passing gas into the balloons that would adorn the ballroom at last week’s Father-Daughter dance. The guys at our local party supply retailer called this tank the Jumbo(which I could swear is the same name of a personal massager I saw when flipping through a copy of Cosmo at the dentist office).
When the party supply professional rolled out the Jumbo, I was taken aback, but I regained my composure – safe in the knowledge that my SUV would provide more than enough room to contain this oversized vessel of compressed gas. My chest proudly expanded, I accompanied the party supply professional to my truck. Together, we gently slid the cylinder in like…(whoops, gotta keep it PG rated). Let’s just say there was room in my truck for the Jumbo and a two piece lunch meal from the chicken joint next door!
Time will tell whether or not I give up my truck for something smaller. It’s just that it would have been tricky trying to get the Jumbo into the back seat of a Miata.
Of course if gas hits $5 per gallon as some of the CNBC and Fox Business talking heads suggest, I might do away with four wheels entirely and channel my inner Lance Armstrong (or maybe Pee Wee Herman – pre 1991 of course) and pick up a shiny brand new Huffy!