The object of our journey was a 1996 Hummer H1 pickup, 25,000 miles, “Desert Storm” tan, one owner—namely Tom’s father-in-law, who bought it new and deployed it as a tractor on his 160-acre farm. A dedicated Hoosier, the Hummer was built in Mishawaka and never departed the state.
“It might be a little rough,” Tom allowed as we passed Karl Kinser’s shop in Oolitic. “Lots of sinkholes in the local limestone, and my father-in-law—plus the Hummer—fell into a couple. More than a couple. He went completely vertical one time. Things got wet.” (Indeed. The brake-light bulbs were filled with liquid the color of Yoo-hoo.) In truth, the body was in great shape, which Tom proudly pointed out as he circled the behemoth, a boy in love.
One of life’s great joys is articulating the hideous flaws in another man’s freshly acquired vehicle. “Wow, you think the starter should be attached with more than one bolt?” I probed. “Was it your dad’s habit to fill the heater core with grain?” And, “I gotta tell you, I’ve never seen tires called ‘IROK Super Swampers.’ ”
