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The ceiling cloth on my pickup, a 2005 GMC Sierra, is pinned up by thumbtacks. I keep a small case of them in the dash to deal with any new sags, a game of whac-a-mole that began some years ago and has since become a matter of routine maintenance. I’d like to say that the silver studs add a touch of refinement, reminiscent of the nailhead trim you might find on a Victorian armchair. But that’s being generous. My truck is no antique. It’s just old. Several of the black buttons on the dash have worn to pure white, the lights behind them dimmed or gone completely. The front axle creaks during low-speed turns. At 70 miles an hour, the truck vibrates so hard that everything…
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