To New Truck, Or Not To New Truck

Fer cute! Bow Tie o’ the Day is one of my fancy bow tie paperclips. 📎

Remember the new truck I ordered after Thanksgiving? I certainly do. I daydream about it a dozen times each day. After a couple of please-be-patient emails from Ford since then, informing me they haven’t built my Maverick yet because they’re still waiting for some of the components, I got an email yesterday that told me it’s likely my 2022 truck might not be able to be put together at all—because of those still-not-delivered components. Ford gave me some choices, none of which I’m fond of.

  • 1. If I want to cancel my order altogether, they will return my deposit. We part ways. No new Maverick. I start the my new vehicle hunt all over again.
  • 2. I can change my original truck order to not include the components Ford can’t get. Even if I drop all the extras, they still can’t guarantee my 2022 truck can be created in 2022.
  • 3. For any inconvenience I’ve endured, Ford will give me some incentives to switch my order to a 2023 model, with all the same extras I ordered for the 2022. I’m sure the price will be higher, and who knows if Ford will be able to get the same components I originally ordered for the 2022 model, in time to put together my 2023 model. Also, If I choose to switch to the 2023 model, I can’t even actually place that order until August, because Ford isn’t taking any orders from anybody for the 2023 Maverick until that time.

I am severely heartbroken about this automobile situation. Fortunately, my happiness has never been vehicle-centered. To me, a vehicle has one purpose: to get you from one place to another. If a vehicle does that reliably, I’m good with whatever it is. (Okay, I’m really a lot pickier than that. But not much.) But, ladies and gentleman and those who aren’t sure, I am smitten by this truck. I must have it. Part car, part truck: it’s like it was made for me. Tonight, I have to make my decision. I must ponder and figure and come up with my final answer. I can’t wait to see what I decide. 🤔

Awake. Woke. Enlightened. And Proud To Be.

I have always been a fan of the audacious, the eloquent, the visionary—the extraordinary and unexpected stuff of the world. But I also have an abiding love of the routine, the ritual, and the everyday. Most of us build lives out of both what makes us comfortable and what challenges us—by what we understand and by what makes us wonder. Our tendency is to vividly remember—and to talk about—the surprises that we encounter, but be all ho-hum about the bulk of our everyday living. Last night as I got ready for bed, for some unexplicable reason, I reveled in the routine litany of bedtime tasks to do before turning off the light. I felt almost gleeful about going through the ritual formalities of preparing to simply go to sleep. Every bedtime to-do seemed almost magical. I was paying attention to the customary, and it felt anything but dull. The very sound of Suzanne brushing her teeth in the bathroom brought me an important peace. And as I pulled a clean t-shirt over my shoulders before I crawled into bed, I realized that putting on a fresh t-shirt is one of the most amazing everyday feelings a person can enjoy. It requires only the act of paying grateful attention to what you’re doing.

During the night, a bold rain began to fall. We were sleeping with the windows open, and I listened intently as the rain pelted the deck for twenty minutes, then abruptly ceased. I smelled the petrichor. I felt the change in humidity on my skin. I counted what seemed like one solitary minutes-long flash of lightning. It was all normal, regular summer stuff I could have just as easily slept through. Most of the time, I do. But I woke up for it and paid attention to it. And that has made all the difference. I can already tell that it has made all the difference in this regular day I am just now beginning. A regular day I am spending in yet another clean t-shirt, with yet another magnetized t-shirt Bow Tie o’ the Day. How fabulous is this routine?!