Though this tale has been told many times and in many different ways, the lesson remains the same. Here is my version.
There was a new car dealership in the area, and as the well-seasoned farmer pulled his dark green work truck up to the service entrance door, he could not help but see the new Cadillac sedan, in all of its glory, parked in the middle of the showroom floor. It was a soft cream color with leather interior; stunning in golden tan. He got out of his truck and walked slowly into the showroom. He could not hold back a shrill whistle as he walked around the car several times, admiring the appearance and acknowledging the fact that the engine under the hood would run like satin.
The two new salesmen were watching the gentleman circle the Cadillac, his torn and ragged overalls covered with grease and dirt. His formerly brown boots were caked with mud and wiry, abandoned blades of grass. One of the salesmen winced as the elderly man placed a soiled hand against the fenders of the car; savoring the smoothness of the paint. “How much?” he asked. His voice was loud and crisp.
The salesmen looked at each other and grinned. “Read the window sticker, Pops. It’s probably a lot more than you have there in the pockets of those overalls.” The two men now broke out into crazy laughter. There was a sudden spark in the gentleman’s pale gray eyes as he looked into the faces of the salesmen. “I tell you what,” he said. “I will be by tomorrow at 9 a.m. with the money. Please have this beauty ready for the road.” He paused and then said, “Do you need my name?” The two men, obviously amused, waved him toward the exit door. The gentleman hesitated, placed his ragged baseball cap on his head, and walked away; leaving miniature towers of good old brown potato dirt in his wake.
A few weeks passed by and there was no sign of the farmer. Not surprisingly, the two salesmen did not give him a second thought; that is until he paid them another visit. The overalls were replaced with a gray suit and polished black shoes. The only familiar thing about him was the worn Boston Red Sox cap he held in his hand and his distinguishable deep and clear voice. “Just passing by on the way to Saturday afternoon Mass, and I couldn’t resist showing off my new car.” Out in the parking lot, side by side, were two new Cadillacs; one dark blue and one brilliant white. “What do you think, boys? I liked the new style so well, I bought two. I left the stickers on the windows, too! What would your commission be on two, brand-spanking new Cadillacs, anyway?” With that, the gentleman left the showroom and climbed into his new car, gave a nonchalant wave of his hand and drove out of the yard. His wife was right behind him, her head barely rising above the deep red steering wheel of her own new Caddie.
There are some witnesses who say the tearful eyes of the two salesmen watching those new vehicles drive away were because of the potato dust that flew from the tread of those new Cadillac tires. I have a different theory. I believe those tears were the result of the sting of a valuable lesson learned: you absolutely should not judge a book by its cover.
Editor’s Note: Belinda Wilcox Ouellette lives Connor TWP with her husband Dale and their Goldendoodle Barney. They are currently working on building a home in Caribou. You may contact Belinda online at: dbwouellette@maine.rr.com.
