Vroom-vroom

There are trucks ...

. . . and then there are TRUCKS. This baby, pictured right, is a 100-percent, Made in Americuh, So-Big-It's-Insane TRUCK. This monster eats foreign sports cars on Ritz crackers as canapes.

Don't you want one?

On a trip last weekend to Bubba World (my nickname for Bass Pro Shops' Outdoor World) in Dania, Fla., we ran across a parking lot festival of swamp buggies, airboats, and the occasional ginormous truck. This is a spot where they were wearing Hillbilly.com baseball caps without irony, where the Stars and Bars flew proudly, and where a briskly selling lawn pennant pictured a snarling pit bull and the caption: Rebel Blood in my Veins, Yankee Blood in My Yard.

In other words: My peeps. (Joking, of course)

I do love it, though, that you can still find this slice of redneck life in thoroughly urbanized South Florida. It reminds me this is a truly diverse place. And that not far away are the untamed Florida Everglades, where airboats sail over sawgrass, good ol' boys gig frogs, and gators loll in mud holes awaiting unsuspecting prey (Note: I did not say ''awaiting unsuspecting Yankees.'' )

Now, excuse me while I get an extension ladder, a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and my pit bull so I can go take a ride in my new truck.

Vroom-vroom!