Living in the country has its advantages not the least of which is driving along in your own world then suddenly being yanked into an open-mouth, “What was that?” Motoring is usually a bucolic activity punctuated by road construction, the occasional lumpy big-wheeled piece of farm equipment, wiry cyclists trying to out-pedal commuter traffic and red-tailed hawks floating on the updrafts over farmers’ fields.


Image by doug88888 via Flickr


At the corner of Davis Drive and Woodbine Avenue in Newmarket, I cruised to a stop behind one of those behemoth trucks, all shiny and black, with those fat-ass double rear tires, huge mud flaps, a pair of whip antennas and nary a speck of dirt. Hanging from the baseball-sized trailer hitch were an impressive pair of … men’s nether parts…cojones.

Yup, a veiny sac of knock-off family jewels in day-glow electric blue. As I idled at a distance, my car vibrating to the rumble of his V12 200 horsepower engine, I’m thinking “Boy, does this guy have some identity issues.” He certaily had lots of cash to fill  up that fuel-sucking tank at $1.30 a liter for premium. That he takes better care of his vehicle than probably anything else he owns. That he may have ‘size’ or ‘performance’ issues.

As he pulled out with a deep-throated roar and a spume of grey exhaust, all I could think of was, I’m glad the grandchildren aren’t with me because I wouldn’t be able to keep  a straight face explaining why a grown man would want to display a ginormous dangling scrotum on the back of his ‘gimme respect’ pimped-out truck. My 12-year-old grandson would have had a field day.

Being a curious person I, of course, Googled ‘blue trailer hitch accessories’ as soon as I got home. I hit the image button and discovered they are actually called ‘blue ball truck nuts’. They are also marketed in red, metallic green, gold and silver and flesh tones.


Image by Fauxen via Flickr

Dangly bits on a truck. Hmm. Great date-bait. There are some that light up or glow in the dark. One version sports a big red lipstick kiss on the lower-hanging side.

Yeah, right. Extreme wishful thinking.