Earlier this year, I learned many of my Facebook associates are epidemiologists who specialize in the study of coronaviruses, posting articles and commenting on other people’s posts with strongly worded opinions about how viruses work.

I had no idea many of those same Facebook associates are also experts in Constitutional law, who know exactly whether President Trump should or should not nominate a Supreme Court justice so close to the election

Perhaps we can’t agree on much as a society right now.

But allow me to unite us.

Allow me to present a hero, an ally for the common man, regardless of background, skin color or spiritual beliefs.

Of course, I am writing about my truck:

This week, my truck, a stalwart American truck, logged its 200,000 mile. She’s so user-friendly, she even had a place I could set my phone so I could log the event safely.

I’ve wrecked two different news cars, but my truck has been with me since I got my first job back in aught-four. I bought the stripped-down version; I’m pretty sure it was the last vehicle made without power doors or windows.

At the time, oh, I was certain I would only keep her until I got a higher paying job.

“I’ll get rid of it and get a better car,” I explained to people even if they hadn’t asked.

Fifteen years later, the truck still sits stalwartly in the driveway, joining me on a cross-country tour of different radio stations I’ve worked for. My career has now lasted longer than a news network I once worked for. And my truck is still here.

My truck has survived a pandemic. My truck has survived whatever happened here.

My truck and I are both beat up, busted down but still running.

Just like the United States of America. We are monuments to the American spirit.