The Way the Pros Roll

He’s a total gearhead.

If it runs on wheels, he’ll find a way to race it.
His truck is bigger, badder and bolder than any pickup you’ll see on the highway.

Little kids look at him in awe.

Bobby Holman, owner of Team Beast and driver of the Lucas Oil Stabilizer monster truck thrills thousands in his appearances at races across the country. With 1,600 horses under the hood and 27 years of competition under his belt, the man knows what he’s doing.

Holman would never dream of starting the engine of the Stabilizer – or his family SUV – without first buckling his seat belt. He says as much in the announcement he recorded for Missouri’s motorists.

It’s the way the pros roll.

Buckle up. ARRIVE ALIVE.

Pickups Rock!

I have always owned a car. From my high school hatchback days to today's SUV, I've operated in a certain level of comfort. But it is no secret that I dream of owning a big, old beater truck someday - a vehicle I could wash with a garden hose - inside and out!

These past couple of weeks, I've tooled around in my brother-in-law's retired work truck, hauling mass quantities of mulch for my spring yardwork. It's been a slice of heaven.

I insert the key in the door and unlock this treasure. Climbing in, I'm careful not to disturb the lacy rust on the bottom of the quarter panel.

I love the metal-on-metal screech of joy, followed by the satisfying thud when pulling the driver's door closed. Sitting on the seat covered bench, I roll the window down (with a crank!), fire him up (I've decided the truck is definitely male) and turn up the radio. The radio pulls in three stations - all on the AM dial. All talk radio.

If only the truck had standard transmission. Then it would be perfect.

But before I put him into gear, I reach over, grab the strap and buckle up.

Because at 170,000 miles, this truck is barely into its adulthood. There are many sister-in-law mooch miles ahead ... unless we crash.

In that case, I want to be in the protective embrace of his safety cage rather than tossed about inside - or thrown out to fend for myself against the pavement.

Besides, I like to think that through the hug of the safety belt, the truck returns my love.

Pickups rock. They also roll.