Turner column: Spokane has many pickup lines of reasoning

When it comes to iconic images of the Inland Northwest, perhaps nothing rivals a jeans-wearing guy leaning against his pickup truck.

Or maybe that’s Montana.

A bit of a cliche, in any event. But a classic one.

OK, more families around here actually own SUVs. But the pickup is parked in a key corner of this region’s psyche. No mere conveyance or means of hauling loads, it is an enduring symbol of identity aspirations.

Here, in a part of the country where rural influences compete on pretty much even terms with urban/suburban sensibilities, the pickup is as much form as function.

Say what you will, it makes a statement.

We don’t want to be Seattle.

We want to be, well, us.

Yes, there are those among us who wouldn’t be caught dead in a pickup, thinking “the rig” implies a set of cultural tastes and political leanings arguably at odds with the values of those who don’t wear boots.

But for many, truck ownership is partly about how we see ourselves.

You don’t need to study volumes of market research to realize pickups can hint at a personal capability that extends far beyond taking a load of paint cans to the dump.

Some see truck ownership as a suggestion of competence, reliability and ruggedness. On a subliminal level, at least.

Or perhaps not so subliminal. We’ve all seen turgid TV commercials for trucks that seem to be selling an action-packed vision of masculinity as much as towing power.

Sure, contractors, farmers and many others buy pickups for practical reasons. They aren’t just acquiring a lifestyle symbol.

If you live out in the country and regularly haul power tools or bags of seed, well, it’s a no-brainer.

But who could deny the appeal for certain others of the pickup and all its possibilities?

Among those possibilities would be an answer to the question, “What kind of guy do I want to be?”

Do I want to be a guy who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty? Do I want to be a guy who can get the job done? Do I want to be a guy who steps down out of the truck and makes people think “Here comes the answer to all our problems”?

Here’s the thing. The Inland Northwest was largely built by a certain kind of hardy men and women. But most of us aren’t miners or lumbermen anymore.

Some of us wear ties. Yet many of us still admire the two-fisted moxie of those who came before us. So how can we reflect that?

You guessed it.

Of course, in-town trucks aren’t simply an affectation, even if they are parked outside where you sit at your desk job. They come in handy when transporting landscaping materials, refrigerators or camping supplies. And helping people move.

They can be perfect for taking the grandchildren fishing.

This is true from Maine to California, of course. It is not a strictly local phenomenon. But in the Spokane area, our cultural identity is still a bit of an open question.

Which vibe prevails here, city mouse or country mouse?

Sometimes our vehicles are an indication of how we vote on that.

That guy in jeans leaning against his iconic truck? He might be a tax accountant who knows a lot about wine.

Now the reality of this is a bit more nuanced than I’m making it sound.

For one thing, pickups are not just a guy thing. Far from it. And not all trucks are alike.

If you inherited your grandfather’s vintage beauty, chances are your feelings about it are quite different from the way the owner of a modern behemoth regards his chattering diesel rig.

Moreover, if you come from a long line of pickup owners, you might regard the truck in your driveway as simply a family tradition.

Or maybe it’s just a vehicle.

Wasn’t it Freud who supposedly said sometimes a pickup truck is just a pickup truck?

Most places, maybe.

But as you might have discovered, Spokane isn’t most places.