Today, like most days, I’m grateful for my Suburban.

She doesn’t have a name, she’s nothing fancy, in fact, the only option she has is the center console and upgraded sound system, but she’s there for me every day and I’ve asked her to do a lot.

She’s got 250,000 miles, most of those pulling a trailer to magic shows throughout the State of Texas, and I wouldn’t hesitate to load up the trailer and drive anywhere in the country in her.

I figure I’ve eaten at least 1000 meals in her and who even knows how much Diet Coke!

I loaded, one board at a time, most of my 1000 sq. foot workshop in the back of her (except the trusses), and she’s seldom complained.

In the course of my ownership (I bought her new in 2005) she has blown an engine (thanks, IMHO to Lube Express in Liberty Hill not properly installing the filter after an oil change) and a Transmission (just wore out), but other than that there has been nothing but regular routine maintenance on her. That 3000-mile oil change thing helps (unless it’s from Lube Express in Liberty Hill).

Best of all, she’s paid off, dependable and a joy to drive. Gas could be $10 a gallon and I’d still want to drive my Suburban. I could get a new car anytime, but I plan on driving this one as long as she’s as dependable and good looking as she is right now.

She’s just familiar and comfortable.

Tomorrow morning I’ll get up, walk out to the Suburban, put my key in and drive wherever I need to go, load up whatever I need to haul and won’t give it a second thought. But today, Suburban, I’m thinking about how grateful I am for you.

Note: It’s now March 3, 2020 and this same Suburban is still being used by my son Peter. It’s got almost 400,000 miles on it, and is getting close to end of service, but since she’s 16 years old with all those miles, I’d say we got our money’s worth out of her.