Little Green envy from the past. . .

There is something I have always wanted to do. It’s kind of stupid and I am not really sure why I want to do it. But I do. There is no reason for me to do this, other than sentimental reasons and it gives me a warm feeling in my stomach when I think about it. As my life right now, there is no possible way for me to do this.
My father drove a sky blue ’66 dodge pick up for the longest time. It had a straight six for the engine and a wooden bed. The wood in the bed were all but rotted out and the paint job was pretty rusted. In fact, the body was pretty beat up to begin with.
Anyway, this blue beast of a pickup broke down one day and my father could not get it fixed and he bought this dark green 1961 datsun pick-up. It had a 4 liter engine in it and was small as hell. He drove it around for about year before he could get the dodge repaired. Actually, I think he drove that poor little datsun into the ground and then he was forced to fix the dodge.
Eventually, the little pickup wound up in the hands of this football player I used to go to High School with. Back then I thought this guy was kind of a dick but I really don’t speak to him anymore now so I really don’t know him like I used to. What can I say, people can change. I don’t know what this guy wanted to do with the truck but I don’t think he ever did anything with it. Right now this little abused datsun truck just sits in his driveway, rotting under the sun. I don’t think its been worked on in years and the last I heard about the little truck is that the transmission was shot to shit.
Here is the stupid part… I want that truck. I have wanted it ever since my father and I stopped speaking. I really don’t know why. Its an ugly green tiny little beast and needs a lot of work. . . and I mean, a LOT of work. But I still want it and have always wanted it since I learned that it did belong to my father and it was just sitting there, in the hands of some guy who was letting it rot away.

I don’t know why I want this truck. Maybe its some weird morbid fascination to try to fix some type of connection I had with my father. Since I cant fix us, maybe I can fix this little truck. But say if I did buy it or maybe talk this guy into giving it back. I don’t have a place to store it while I was working on it. I don’t have the tools and I can’t say I have the money either. But the desire to get my hands on this truck is still there. Every time I lay my eyes on this tiny tuck, I keep wishing I could just go get it and take it home. Its almost an obsession.

I don’t think the white raven would let me be so bold as to go get this green truck. Even if she did, I would still have to rent something to tow it home. That little truck has sat there for so long, the tires have deflated. I have no place to put it. . . I have no place to work on it. . . and I don’t even have the tools. . . On the other hand, it would give me something to do besides play video games all the time. It would give me something to focus on besides the worries. . . maybe. I am neurotic, so that may not be the case. But either way. . . It would be nice to get my hands on this truck. . . this poor little battered Datsun.