Some of you may remember my big truck, Oprah. Some of you may remember that after futile attempts to sell the damn thing, I just gave it to my little brother. Shortly after he got it insured, titled, licensed and all that junk that goes with making a vehicle legal for use, the engine gave it's last hurrah between Kansas City and St. Joe at some podunk truck stop...with a sputtering fanfare of black smoke and burning oil smell.
Good thing I didn't sell it, because the buyer would have been torching my house.
Mike, being the resourceful, mechanically-inclined of us siblings made a couple calls to his network, secured a new engine for a fraction of the cost it would have been to just go out and buy one. With the help of 'Bert, they dropped the new engine into the old girl, giving her a new lease on life.
Mike brought the truck over yesterday and let me drive it. I must say, it runs better than it ever did when I owned it. I took it out on the highway and cruised with ease at 85 mph. Mike has done some body modifications with it...tinted windows, high-end stereo system, beefy exhaust...making it a pretty badass truck. I'm terribly proud of him. Mom says I done good by giving it to him.
But I did tell him that should anything happen, I want my truck back.