I don’t remember where I read it, but somewhere I saw what was supposed to be the key to a happy home. It said you should buy the absolute nicest house you can afford, then just go out and get some old junker car with whatever cash you have left lying around.
The idea is that you’re supposed to spend most of your time at home, so that’s where you should have all your comforts. And if you drive a jalopy, you won’t be tempted to stay away from home long. That’s all well and good, but your crummy vehicle needs to be able to get you out into the hills or to the waterfowl blind once in a while. Whoever made that statement about a nice house and a crummy car never had to drive a 22-year-old F-250.
I’ve been tempted to buy a really nice camper to put in the bed of my truck, because one of these days, I’m pretty sure it’s going to conk out on me, and wherever it stops is where I’ll be living for a while. Might as well make the best of it.
And as for the wisdom that spending more time at home leads to a happy home life, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree again. Yes, I love my family, and I’m pretty sure they love me back, but there are times when even the youngest will look at me and say, “Dad, I think you need to go hunting for a while. You’re getting a little cranky.”
So, sure, get that nice house. But spend a few more bucks to get a pretty nice truck to get away from it once in a while, or you’ll wind up with a truck like mine, and that might lead to an unintended extended outdoors trip when the wheels fall off miles from nowhere.
