I don’t know how people manage with little cars. I’m as much of a stickler for elegance as the next person, but I’m also one for being able to get stuff done. Like it or not, sometimes life hands you a free lounge that you must collect today, or a cut price bales of lucerne hay that’s the missing ingredient in your compost, or the loan of a massive bell tent for the summer. When those opportunities arise, I like to be able to seize them without a second thought.
That, my friends, is why I drive a ute. I may not be able to load it up with passengers, and it may be marginally harder to find a parking spot outside the school, and sure – some people on my street probably think I’m responsible for the late-night joy riding in our area, just because my ride is always caked in mud. But I’m the one who’s laughing when someone needs a ladder, or to relocate a washing machine.
My utility quotient has gone up, too, since I bought myself a commercial-grade ute toolbox. Melbourne is getting bigger by the minute, and who knows where or when I’m going to wind up with a busted tyre in some god-forsaken suburban fringe? The toolbox answers to this, and then some. If ever I’ve made a solid investment, I’m pretty sure this is it.
My daughter was a bit put off, I could tell. She thinks I should be downsizing to a smaller vehicle, not kitting out the ute. But hey, I’m her mother, and I’ll make the decisions – at least when it comes to how I get around town. Besides, when it comes to aluminium ute canopies, Melbourne is the best place in the country for getting custom rigs fabricated. As if I’m going to get a garden variety sedan, with all the modification options that are now open to me!
I might be pushing 70, but there’s never been a better time to rock a ute.