What quality is-and isn't

摘要

It's time to order up a new, custom-built truck. I live on the dry, sunny, eastern side of Washington state, at the end of a long, winding gravel road high up in the Cascade Mountains near the Canadian border. The road is as rugged as they come. It punishes vehicles—to the point at which their parts fall off onto the roadway. My old truck held up to such mistreatment for 10 years before falling prey to a pair of teenage daughters. They added whole new dimensions of deterioration, including a permanent odor of perfume, cigarette burns, and dents and gashes on all four sides—all eliciting the same plaintive defense: "It wasn't me, Daddy!"