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No, not the late Mr. Butch of The Allman Brothers Band nor his nephew Mr. Derek of his own band or what’s left of the Allmans anymore.

A while back I wrote a piece about a neighbor, I don’t know his name but he lives nearby and we wave from time to time so that makes him a neighbor I suppose.

He is the guy who has two aging and oil depositing on the streets pick up trucks.

It seems he has added a third truck to his collection. It’s somewhere between gold and copper in color. After 30 years or so exposed to the elements it might have been brown at one time but now it looks like weak tea.

I don’t know if the neighbor bought the truck, found it or maybe someone seeing his small fleet of pickups decided to add to it by abandoning the copper truck on the property, like people abandon kittens.

Maybe the guy drove the pickup to the house, had a getaway driver waiting, rang the doorbell and ran away leaving the new/old/new pickup on the street for it’s new owner.

I suppose anything is possible anymore these days.

The new/old/new truck was roaring the other day with the hood up, engine running and the new owner revving up the beast.

I suspect this truck is of the pre-fuel injection era since the guy had his head buried in the engine compartment and it sounded like he was trying to blow out the carburetor like we used to do in the old days when all cars had carburetors.

Carburetors. Those jobs are gone and they’re never coming back.

The latest addition the the fold seems to be a Chevy. I one saw bumper sticker on a Chevy truck that read,” On a quiet night you can hear the Fords rust.”

I also saw another sticker,”Friends don’t let friends drive Chevies.”