The old John Deere Model B that he had, from the times before, and only a decade younger than he. It was my favourite; more classic and sleek; the two others since, were but bulky and large in comparison, tractor cabs with the headphones and radio, air conditioning and heater. More muscle, less heart. When he got me the toy set of tractors, it was that I liked most, Model B, now what left of the set in his office, lining bookshelf.
In junkyards the curve of the old metal seat.
There was always the divide, he would bring in the new, and I would pine for the old, whether tractor, truck, porch. Sometimes things are just fine as they are, even just as a black-and-white shade.