It was 1981 and my first car, the one that was really all mine, was a 1974 Chevy LUV mini pickup. I wanted a truck, a Toyota 4×4, but there was no way I could afford one. A used Chevy LUV would have to suffice.
Chevy LUVs were manufactured in Japan under the brand Isuzu. This was before Japan really turned around their quality. Japanese products around that time were seen as cheap, junky things. This truck turned out to be one of them.
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It was a great ride at first. The truck was tan and there was hardly a scratch on her. To make it look like the 4×4 I couldn’t afford, I added a roll bar with mounted KC lights (There was no need for them. I lived in Southern California for crying out loud. But they looked cool.) and of course I had to put in a great stereo with, wait for it…. a cassette player!
I adjusted the little spray nozzle for the windshield wipers so that I could drive along the street and spray water on people. I topped it off with two little stickers on the wing windows that said, “If you value your life as much as I value this truck, don’t mess with it.” I wanted the sticker that had the “F” word in it, but I knew my parents wouldn’t approve.
My girlfriend, who would later become my ex-wife wasn’t impressed. She came from quite a bit of money and this truck was no doubt “low class” in her mind, but she didn’t refuse to ride with me.
On a side note, this was just one of many things she considered “low class.” My favorite one was her saying drinking beer out of a bottle was “low class.” I’ll take my beer in a bottle every time thank you. I’ve never considered myself “classy.”
One Friday evening, I was driving to her house to go on a date. We were going to see Superman, The Moviewith Christopher Reeve. As I turned left out of my street, I didn’t see a big pickup coming from the left because of the bright sun. It nearly missed me, but his back bumper smashed my left front fender and raked over the hood of my truck, tearing a big gash in it. I was devastated. My girlfriend was embarrassed when I picked her up.
The truck then began having other issues. It tended to overheat and in the California sun, it was a chronic problem. Once it overheated on the freeway and I had to be towed to a gas station to get a new radiator hose. I was rapidly losing faith in my truck.
Then, about three months later, as we got close to summer vacation, I was driving on the freeway when the truck began to shudder. I made it off the freeway and to my girlfriend’s house. I found out the camshaft broke in half. Another quality escape from Isuzu, I guess. I eventually towed it to my house where it sat for about three years in our back yard. Eventually, we towed it to the junkyard.
About a year before my Chevy LUV headed to the Happy Driving Ground, I was searching for a dirt bike. I wanted a Honda CR-125, two-stroke. I could only afford a used one, and finally found one on The Auto Trader. It was a 1974, the same year as my Chevy LUV. I was hoping for something newer, but this was my budget. It had been painted over with silver spray paint, but looked worn out, and the seat was re-upholstered with an old pair of denim jeans. The pocket was right about where you placed your left butt cheek. I started it up and did a test drive. It seemed to run ok so I offered him $125.00 and he took it.
When I got it home, I could really see what rough shape it was in. I took it for a drive in my neighborhood and it was loud but seemed to run ok. It was butt ugly though.
A few weeks later, my dad, brother, and I took our dirt bikes out to Victorville to ride. Most of this area is now developed, but back then it was nothing but desert. We unloaded the bikes and fired them up. Mine ran well for about six minutes. Then it quit and I couldn’t get it started. In fact, it never started again. I’m not mechanical and couldn’t afford to take it anywhere, so I took it into the back yard and leaned it up against my dead Chevy LUV pickup.
As I stood there looking at the pathetic sight of a dead dirt bike propped up against a dead truck, I wanted to take a picture. It would be an important reminder of a very powerful, expensive lesson:
Don’t buy cheap shit. Learn to delay gratification.
Shortly after the Chevy LUV was towed off, I managed to sell that motorcycle for $75.00. The guy who bought it wanted a motor for his paraglider. I warned him about the motor, but he wanted it anyway. I hoped I never had to read about a guy dying in his paraglider because he bought cheap shit from another guy who bought cheap shit.
I haven’t always been able to afford the best things. But when the purchase is important and/or it must last a long time, it’s the best move.
Settling for less than perfect is an easy habit to get into. I certainly did it financially when I was young and broke. Sadly, those traits followed me into adulthood, and I found myself settling for second best or the cheapest option available.
But settling for less than perfect goes for more than just retail purchases. When have you settled for less than perfect in jobs? Careers? Friendships? Relationships?
In each case you probably were lonely and desperate and took the first thing that came along. It’s easy to understand. When I wanted a dirt bike more than anything, anything resembling a dirt bike would do. But now, with the gift of time and wisdom, I would have patiently waited and just purchased a new dirt bike when I could finally afford it.
What about you? What are some things you find yourself settling for, simply because you don’t have the patience, time, or wisdom to wait?
Is what you want achievable but difficult to attain? Is it going to take a lot of time and work? If so, I’d offer that it’s probably worth the wait. If I could do it again, I’d never have a broken-down motorcycle propped up against a broken-down truck, but we can’t go back.
I’m going to try and just wait for the BEST option, even if it means more time and money.
Are you with me?