My dad’s always been one for schemes that strike others as bonkers, and it seems he’s still going strong with this in his 70s. This became clear to me today when he announced over lunch that he’s planning to enter a hot rod competition by grafting a rusty 1940s milk truck body onto a racing car… or something to that effect. I kind of tuned out after he told me he’d found the milk truck on Plumtree and it hadn’t cost him a cent.
When he mentioned a while back that he was getting interested in modifying trucks, I imagined he was going to get himself a brand new 4×4. Aluminium canopies and safety-compliant gas bottle holders, it turns out, aren’t the order of the day, which is a tiny bit disappointing. I figured he’d be joining me on an off road expedition, rather than becoming some kind of hipster speed demon. Honesty, it makes me feel slightly uncool by comparison.
It’s okay. I guess I’ll just go to the aluminium fabricators by myself to get my new ute tool box made to order. Melbourne has changed my dad’s taste in activities, I tell you. Back in the day, he would have been totally keen to compare on-tray and under-body box models, but now he’s all about hitting up the wreckers’ yard with his ‘rat rod’ buddies. That’s what he calls this project: a rat rod. I looked it up and apparently it’s a thing – something to do with the early days of DIY car mods or something.
Oh, well. Who am I to complain about my ageing dad having active hobbies and a lively social life? He could be spending his retirement sitting around the house watching Wheel of Fortune, and I doubt I’d be too happy about that – even if he did agree to come shopping for 4WD accessories with me.