When Reality Mimics Fiction

Marci Vogel’s fictional account of her relationship with Victor and his 1976 Toyota longbed truck was more reality than fiction to me (“Go,” California Story, Feb. 19).

First, my daughter’s nickname is Go. We usually call her Mogo since her name is Monique. When she was old enough to talk, she would immediately and forcefully say, “GO!” whenever she was in our car and the traffic light turned from red to green. She’s been going anywhere she could drive or fly to ever since she was a teen, going on three decades now.

Second, I have a 1988 longbed Toyota truck with just about the same mileage as Victor’s: 172,000. My truck, which thrives on benign (or even malicious) neglect, is used to negotiating the steep dirt slopes on our avocado grove, and it’s kept in a constant state of dustiness. Vogel’s description--”being in the cab is like sitting inside an emptied-out vacuum cleaner bag”--is the perfect description of my Toyota. Of course, it is dented, the truck bed is burned on one side from an unexplained fire, and rust has begun to take its toll.

Lawrence Berk

Ventura