The Hombre Inventory

After driving my 98 Hombre since I bought it in 2001, I have happily driven its little guts out. The cushion on the driver’s seat is nonexistent: my butt has been sitting on metal for the last three years. The dashboard is cracked right down the middle, where I’ve had to bang on it if I wanted the radio to work, even though the stereo worked fine. And the dog nose smudges on the passenger side window that I purposely never washed—I almost kept that window and framed it, but I let my good sense win on that account. I traded in the entire Hombre, so now she’s all gone. I expected the dealership to give me maybe $100 for the trade-in value, but I was pleasantly surprised when they offered me a whole $1,000. Seriously, I just handed them the Hombre’s keys and hoped they wouldn’t call me back later saying, after further consideration, I owed them money for all their hassle to take it to car heaven.

When I cleaned out the old girl, I found everything I have laid out for you in these photos. I was not surprised by much, although I was a bit fascinated by a couple of things, as you will see. Here’s my truck’s Ed Hardy “LOVE KILLS SLOWLY” sunscreen, which I have used here as the display for the rest of the inventory. Kinda moving from left to right: 2 pairs of work gloves; a spare party Bow Tie o’ the Day; a keyed gas cap; fluffy holiday antlers and a red nose for the truck to wear; 4 notebooks; a pack of argyle tissues; a pack of Virginia Slims Superslims cigarettes I used as a prop in a TIE O’ THE DAY post years ago; a dime; 4 pocketknives; 8 pens; the printed name “MERCEDES” I used to cover up my sister’s Betty Rae’s name on Dad’s headstone when she first came to see it, cuz she doesn’t like her name; a dog chew; 2 TIE O’ THE DAY bracelets; a pack of cough drops; a bottle of antibacterial gel; my Ute window flag; a copy of the The Constitution; a book of matches; 3 all-in-one utility tools; a boxed aluminized emergency blanket; jumper cables; a green comb; an ice scraper/brush; a baggie o’ old pretzels; a pile o’ maps and truck documents. And finally, look closely at my Ute flag. You will see I finally found the hearing aid I lost almost two years ago. Yup, I found it on the floor behind my seat in the Hombre, under a layer of dog fur. It has been surreptitiously listening to me this whole time. Oh, and the really final thing you can see on my Ute flag is the last tampon left in existence on any property I live in or drive in. It will not be moving into the new truck. 🚬

Retired

License plate Bow Tie o’ the Day heralds its own retirement. With the delivery of my new truck, I put my 98 Isuzu Hombre out to pasture. My red Hombre served me well for more than two decades, and it now romps freely on acres of other junked vehicles—where it will likely be used for parts. And in that way, its pieces and parts can live to ride another day. Not only did I decide it’s time to retire my faithful truck, I decided it is time to retire the infamous “HELEN W” license plates. Mom first ordered the vanity plate in the 80’s for her Oldsmobile, which we immediately began referring to as the Helenmobile. With each new car she got, she transferred her HELEN W license plate to it, and that car automatically became the new Helenmobile—whether it was an Oldsmobile or not. When Mom gave up her car keys a few years back, it made sense that she transferred the HELEN W license plate to me. I gleefully transferred it to my Hombre. I fully intended to transfer the license plate to my fancy new truck, but the testy climate of the world as it is now makes it not so wise to drive around with a license plate that shouts out your first name and last initial to passing strangers. So, with all due respect and gratitude for their previous service, I have retired the HELEN W license plates, although I will officially own them until I die.