I really like this image. In part for its purely visual qualities. But also, and essentially, for what it depicts. You need both of them together. It's a freight car, and a rather battered one at that. Look at the layers of paint, the layers of age. This car works hard. But it also tells of men (perhaps women, but men most likely) who like design, and like their names. Egos floridly on display on a cross-country journey. Created under the discipline of "don't get caught or your ass is in jail." And odd macho sort of aesthetic. But real, if not ultimate. What does this car carry? Toilet tissue, flat-screen TVs? No doubt the load varies from trip to trip. As do the names, over time.
But that's not all. In the foreground, dried grass, and a glimpse of a (scuzzy) pond. Behind, a utility pole connecting to the local grid, which connects to the regional, which connects to the national. Grid. And then there's the sky. Odd to say it's the background. Compositionally, that's what it is. In reality, it's all over.
I like it that the grass colors echo in a lighter hue the tones painted on the side of the car. From dirty yellow to light beige-yellow. Against the blue-white sky.