Can't help but notice all the Hummers on the road when I make my commute every day. Sometimes I have even seen as many as two car carriers in a weeks time loaded with them on their way to eager car shoppers. They are even advertised in Rolling Stone magazine with the price of the small one, the H3, listed as $33K . Not bad for a big car in the US these days I guess. I've scaled way down myself. I'm not anti big car, I had four kids to haul at one time and went through a couple of Suburbans in doing so myself. I haven't seen one in the high school parking lot yet, but there was a two column news story in the local paper detailing the rolling crash of one of these on the loop. Even with that much print devoted to what I guess was the first hummer crash in town, it was kind of like the report on the death of a rock star in a Hollywood bungalow, they did not tell all they knew. The names of the passengers were not available at press time.
So Hummers are here to stay in droves. Aside from natural resource consumption issues, a fight I am not pure enough to fight, I wonder that since they are an offshoot design of a military vehicle, what guys returning from the war think when they see them on the highway? What makes me wonder this is a conversation I had one time with my dad, a WW2 vet.
The old man was looking at buying a vehicle. It was about 1987 and the old red 72 Ford pickup, 360 v8, long bed had about had it. The old man had retired, it was time to treat himself. As we discussed what he might buy I thought of the recent deer hunts him and old Charlie had taken to going on, deep in the woods muddy roads, I think there had been an incident where Charlie had gotten "turned around" and the old man himself had developed the habit of hanging toilet paper on bushes to mark his trail. I was a little worried about the old guys and did not want them to get stuck or something. With this in mind I suggested a jeep, four wheel drive, small, easy to drive in the East Texas bottomlands.
When I voiced this thought, I was diplomatic about the getting lost and stuff, but the old man became indignant. He spat and cut one of the little King Edward cigars that he smoked in half, he always cut them in half, they came five to a pack, skinny little arrows to the lungs that would too soon do him in just a few years later. He lit it and spoke. "I rode all over Europe in the war in one of those rough riding bastards and I swore if I ever got off of it I would never ride in one again." Our discussion ended. He bought a Chevy S10, a very sporty version of it I might add.
The old man never said much about the war, and I can't help but wonder about those feelings he had, so strong even almost 45 years later that he wanted nothing to do with an item associated with the event. Makes me wonder what guys coming back from the current war now think when they see so many Hummers around these days. Will they ride in them?
