Today, my baby brother came and took my truck away. Ofcourse, I told him to. His crappy little Mazda finally died, and he neded a vehicle. I've been trying to sell Oprah for about 6 months now, to no luck thanks to the prices of gas. Oprah has been sitting at Kant's house, so I am certain everyone in her family was tired of looking at it. The truck need a new owner who would love her and cherish her the way I did.
Why do I call the truck Oprah? Well, she's big, black, and powerful...and also getting up there in years.
I was sad to see Mike drive off with the old girl. I was surprised it was still operational...but at least he knows how to work on her should she break down. Lots of memories with that truck: a romantic interlude in a parking garage at the Plaza, many trips down to the lake, piling tons of nursing school buddies in the cab just to go to lunch, a canoe trip, towing my boat after it was purchased...only to discover the brakes were bad when I was on the highway...ahh yes, the memories. Oprah...you will be missed.
At least I know the truck went to someone who needed it. I didn't make any money from it, I just gave him the keys and said "take care". I'm glad I could do this for him.
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