Wheels: About two trucks and trying to move forward (8-22-25)

This is a story about two blue trucks – one a hand-made, metal decorative truck – tagged “Margaritaville.” The other a much smaller, plastic toy truck. By association that means it’s also a story about wheels, the title of this column. I’ll circle back to that road at the end of this trip, so take a ride with me.

And it’s another story about Dorinda, my Bear.

The decorative truck sits on a chassis that’s about one foot long. I bought it for Dorinda from a family hardware store in Prattville when we decided to make Gulf Shores our home. It had been in a storage unit in Prattville until earlier this month. But I made a point to get the truck on my last trip through there. And now it’s been placed in our condo. It fits this community’s laid-back lifestyle perfectly – with “Margaritaville” on the side of it and a parrot riding in the rear.

You know, I like that.

But my wife never got to see the truck inside our condo. I lost her to cancer April 25, a few months shy of our 39th wedding anniversary. Readers of my first column will remember I plan to write more about Dorinda, and about me navigating Gulf Shores alone. I’ll also write about the places I visit and the people I meet along the way.

One of those people was Angela Malick, who through a friend and Rotary connection in Palatka, Florida, invited me to attend a meeting of the Rotary Club of Gulf Shores/Orange Beach as a new resident to the area. She also invited me to attend a meeting of the Lower Alabama Parrothead Club. I did and I’m officially now a Parrothead, a nod to the great Jimmy Buffett and his devoted fans. I joined the club Aug. 9, met some nice folks and also got embarrassed a bit – another story for another time.

So, being a Parrothead, I felt like it was an appropriate time to have the Margaritaville truck make the ride with me back to the beach. Ironically the same day, a friend who knew I was relocating here sent me a photo of when she met Jimmy Buffett walking on the beach here in 2010. She said he was very nice.

That’s the vibe I’m getting after a month as a resident – that most folks are very nice. I look forward to meeting more of them on my journey, joining them enroute to Margaritaville.

Our next stop fuels the story of the little blue truck. A week after losing my Bear, I was visiting with my 4-year-old grandson in Florence. I took him to a park near the Tennessee River, a playground where Dorinda and I took him several times. (He called her Dee Dee.)

Rhys was playing on top of one of the slides at the park when he found a little blue truck, road worn from being played with over so many miles. No one else was at the playground. We left and Rhys took the truck with him. And since there hadn’t been anyone else there during our stay, I had no idea who might have left it behind.

But when we got back home, I learned who Rhys believed had left it there for him. His mom asked him how he found it.

“Dee Dee left it there for me,” he told her matter-of-factly. Rhys firmly believes that little blue truck was left for him to find by his Dee Dee.

I like that. 

Rolling on, let’s circle back to wheels. Some of these columns will focus on the music Dorinda and I enjoyed and the live music I will discover here. I’ll get in tune with that quest in an upcoming column.

Two songs came to my mind when thinking of wheels. One you’re most certainly familiar with as it was written by someone much more adept at that art than me. John Lennon wrote “Watching the Wheels,” which was released posthumously in 1981 after his death. Stripped down, I take it to mean enjoying the simpler things in life, “watching the wheels go round and round.”

You’re probably not as familiar with “Wheels,” one of my many favorite songs by the Foo Fighters. It paints the picture of a plane landing, the wheels touching ground safely after some concern. Overcoming adversity and being resilient is the message. If you’re struggling with something in your life, know that you’re not alone. Hold on to something, be resilient.

That’s what I’m striving to do. Bless you if you’re fighting cancer, or making the journey with someone who is traveling that path. I'm not ready to give in to grief and give up. Dorinda wanted me to live my life, enjoy watching our three grandchildren grow up, where she can see them through my eyes. She wanted my heart to heal and find happiness. It was some of her final words to me. Move on, through the tears.

Dorinda liked the song “Wheels,” too. I can almost hear her singing the chorus. To me, it's about moving on, come what may. A line in that chorus says, "When you think that it's all over, here's another round for you."

And you know, I like that.

Wayne Smith has worked as a writer and editor at newspapers across Alabama, Florida and South Carolina. Contact him at wwsmith6410@gmail.com.

Rhys plays with the little blue truck he says was left at the playground for him by his Dee Dee. (Wayne Smith photo)

The hand-made, decorative metal blue truck belonging to the author.