One of the benefits of being in a tow truck and not a car.
The first vehicle I owned was a 1949 Willys Jeep with a Chevy 283 in it, painted camo. My 8-year-old just the other day asked me what happened to it, because I've told him about it a few times. "I traded it for a '69 LeMans," I told him.
"A car with a nose longer than the Honda I'm driving now."
"You shoulda kept the jeep," he said.
Duh. Like I don't know that now. I crashed the LeMans into a tree a year after I got it. The Willys couldn't go 95 mph, so I doubt it would have met the same end.
My parents sold the tow company before I was old enough to drive legally for them, so my first real driving experience was when I was 20, for a company named Estby Towing in Beaverton, Oregon, where my brother-in-law was now managing. His brother Leonard was my trainer. Leonard and I had known each other for years, so learning from him was easy. I was assigned to a Chevy 1-ton with a 454 and a Vulcan Cradle Snatcher. Wow, what fun! Like dollying a car every time you hook up. And try keeping those extension chains
away from the side of a Suburban. We would tie shop rags around the clevis hook at the top of the extension chain so that it was a scuff rather than a scratch.
Leonard did a good job of training me, I have to admit. In the 20 years I was behind the wheel accidents and damage claims were few and far between, and it's my experience that getting off to a good start is crucial. And we had fun. One day we stopped for lunch at Burger King, and we ate in the truck. There were no cupholders, so while eating I was in the habit of resting a drink on the bottom of the steering wheel so that it leaned against the horn button. I had parked with the wheels turned slightly, so this time I had to give the steering wheel a laborious partial-turn to lock it into place before my “cupholder” was in place. We ate our food and shot the breeze, and when it came time to leave, I forgot that I had given the steering wheel the turn to lock it, so when I turned the key over, the steering wheel sprung back to its resting position, launching the three-quarters full cup of soda into a 540-degree spin before it landed upside-down on my lap. I can still hear the sound of Leonard laughing.
Have a safe and profitable week.