The reality of fiction

I drive a black Ford Ranger. It’s a basic truck with few bells and whistles other than heated seats and a cover for the back bed so my golf clubs don’t get wet. 

My wife hates trucks and is persistently complaining about my need to own one. My response is always the same: It’s convenient to carry my clubs and other outdoor gear, it allows me to go to the dump or remove yard debris without worrying about ruining the inside of the cab, and it enables me to transport larger items when needed. 

In other words, it’s useful for the multitude of activities that I engage in.  

The other day, as I was driving my truck just after work, I pulled up to a stoplight. As soon as I was stationary, I noticed another vehicle pull up in the lane next to me. Something about the motion caught my attention so I turned and looked over to my right.

The vehicle was large and covered with an interesting matte black paint, which made the sun bounce off it in an odd way. I immediately noticed the unusual angles of the chassis and how unique the side mirror was. I wasn’t sure why, but the vehicle seemed strange to me.

Just as I was pondering these points, the light turned green, and the traffic started to move forward. That’s when the vehicle pulled ahead, which gave me a clear view of the entire frame. 

In an instant, I realized why I was so confused. 

It was the new Cybertruck, the futuristic electric vehicle from Tesla that was just released into the mainstream, albeit in very limited quantities.

I took my phone out and snapped a quick photo and sent it to my son with the caption, “My first Cybertruck sighting!” (He’s really into cars, so I thought he’d be impressed.) 

As I pulled up to the next stoplight, the Cybertruck and I ended up next to each other again. This time I looked inside the window, curious about the individual that had the resources and connections to have access to this rare automobile. He was a 30-ish looking guy with a mustache and aviator sunglasses — exactly who you’d expect to be driving such a unique vehicle. 

His window was down so I dropped my passenger window and attempted to engage him. 

Me: “Hey, that thing looks even more futuristic in person.”

Cybertruck Driver: “Yep, it’s unique. Feels like I’m driving a spaceship sometimes.”

I was enamored that he was so responsive. I figured everyone was probably asking him questions, so he’d be annoyed, but he was immensely cordial. 

Me: “How does it handle?”

Cybertruck Driver: “Surprisingly smooth for something that looks like it belongs in a sci-fi movie. And the torque is insane.”

Me: “I can imagine. Probably getting a lot of weird looks driving it around?”

Cybertruck Driver: “All the time. People either love it or think it’s some kind of armored vehicle.”

Me: “Well, it’s definitely got a presence. Any cool features?”

Cybertruck Driver: “Tons. The self-leveling suspension is great for off-roading, and the storage space is like a cavern. Plus, it’s built like a tank.”

Me: “Sounds like the perfect apocalypse vehicle.”

Cybertruck Driver: “Yeah, pretty much. I’m ready for zombies, road trips, and everything in between.”

Me: “Just need to add some solar panels and you’re all set.”

Cybertruck Driver: “Funny you say that. It can actually charge with solar power. Eco-friendly apocalypse ready.”

Me: “Impressive. Enjoy the ride, man.”

Cybertruck Driver: “Thanks, you too. Drive safe.”

And with that, my 45-second Cybertruck acquaintance drove away, leaving me wishing I was living his reality.

The main character in this week’s feature, “American Fiction,” finds himself living in an alternative reality when his book career takes off after he decides to pander to the perceptions of gullible public.

Starring Jeffrey Wright (“The Batman,” “Asteroid City”) as a haughty college professor who sidelines as a novelist, the film follows the slow decline and then sudden expansion of his writing career when he writes an outlandish satire of a stereotypical black experience. 

Check this one out if you yearn for well-crafted cinema (of which we are in continually short supply). It’s beautifully written and full of exceptional performances. And it doesn’t hurt that it’s funny and smart at the same time.

A bookish “A-” for “American Fiction,” now streaming on Amazon Prime.

Got a question or comment for Dom? You can email him at moviediary@att.net.