This weekend, hundreds of classic vehicles will line the City streets for the annual

Each restoration project has a unique story, but I鈥檓 a softie for the tales about the old pickup trucks.

Their transition from workhorse to 鈥楥owboy Cadillac鈥� usually involves a dramatic recovery and a lot of time, money and love.

Most truck guys are romantic. They ask their women to wear leather because it makes them smell like the cab of a new pickup. To them, the rusted heap on the fence line is as pretty as the tulips in the field. They will whisper lovingly how they changed the truck鈥檚 payload from hay bales to trophies and what sacrifices they endured in the process.

Recently, I saw a young boy stop by a beat- up old truck, wipe his sleeve across the faded fender and then caress the steering wheel after he gently closed the weary door. That boy was in love.

My buddies Dan Beer and The Sea Billys turned my poem into a country song and we know all great country songs have pickups in the lyrics.

Yes, a man and his pickup is a beautiful thing. At least that鈥檚 what McGregor says.

Ugly Truck

The front bumper鈥檚 twisted like a pretzel

She鈥檚 bent a little out of line;

One headlight鈥檚 pointed upward,

God knows where it鈥檚 gonna shine;

The mirror on the right side

Is missing all its glass;

But it makes no reflection

On how my life has come to pass;

The antenna has been broken off

But that coat hanger works fine;

She may be an awful ugly truck

But that ugly truck鈥檚 all mine!

The upholstery鈥檚 damp and musty

And some springs are pokin through;

The floor mats try to do the job

The floor boards used to do;

The gear shift knob鈥檚 an 8 ball

That fits my hand real nice;

And hanging from the mirror

Are my daddy鈥檚 fuzzy dice

The tail lights hang from baling wire,

The tail gate鈥檚 tied with binder twine;

She鈥檚 ugly, but she鈥檚 loyal

And that ugly truck鈥檚 all mine!

The paint is pretty faded

All her chrome is long since gone;

She鈥檚 hardly ever free of mud,

It鈥檚 a long time since she shone;

The box is mostly full of rust

So there鈥檚 no room for a load;

Three different size of tires

Keep her rolling down the road;

When she asked for the house and car

I said 鈥淚 won鈥檛 decline,

You keep the tables, chairs, and kitchen wares,

But that ugly truck鈥檚 all mine!鈥�