Dusty seats are not new for this old orange truck. When I was a little girl, I would ride the combine with my Pop, and then watch as he swing the dinosaur neck-like funnel over the back of this truck and pour the soybeans into it. The dust would be thick in the air and by the time we loaded up into this truck to take the soybeans to town, the seats had their fair share of dirt. I remember how bouncy the ride was on the way. I sure don’t remember seat belts or any mention of sitting too close to an airbag! My Uncle Dale would drive and tell jokes to us, like, “Willie make it? Betty don’t!” (as we slowly made it up a hill in the heavy truck). My brother and I would sit in the middle with my Pop on the other side. We would pull up to the grain bin and I would be anxious to get out quick before the operator raised up the truck to dump out the beans. We would escape safely into the building where my Uncle would go into the office and get a report on the quality of the harvest, and my Pop would reach into the single row- Pepsi machine with glass bottles of various flavors of soda to get his “grands” a drink. I would always get grape. My brother liked orange, I think. We would wave to the lady in the office and then on our way we would go.. back into the bean truck to head home.