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                                                   The Truck Driver


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                                            THE TRUCK DRIVER
 
HE'S A BIG GUY.....He's a small guy. He comes in all sizes and shapes...Short, tall, skinny, and fat...Laughing, serious, happy, and sad.

 

 

 

He's transportation with a  grin on his face...Distribution with a cocked left eyebrow...He's progress with diesel fumes in his hair.

 

He makes his living holding 10 tons of steel in his hands(I know its 40 tons, but this was written a long time ago.) He has highways in his eyes.

 

                                                                                     He's a Truck Driver!!

 

He hauls milk for the nation's babies, dresses for the nation's ladies...Steel for our countries defense.....and bread for the nation's breakfast tables.

 

He likes straight highways....Blonde waitresses.....slot machines that pay off....friendly cops....and bonus checks.

 

The road's his home...He drives today so the world can live tomorrow.

 

Laughing, cocky, husky, he's tough enough to hold his cargo against a hurricane....

 

And gentle enough to 40 tons of wheeled steel....to let a 12 ounce kitten cross the road.

 

He can tell you where to get the best peice of apple pie on the highway...where the speed traps are, and which roads to take to make the fastest time...

 

He hates in the order named, Phonies, roadhogs, tough traffic cops, weigh stations, small town justices of the peace....Steep hills.....and weak coffee.

 

He's America on wheels....He's big business with a road map in his pocket...

 

                                                                                     He's a Truck Driver....

 

without him there would be no gas to run the nation's automobiles...no steel to make the machines...no concrete to make the highways...no merchandise to spin the wheels of trade.

 

Born 200 years ago he would have been a buccaneer, a privateer, a freebootin' soldier of fortune.

 

Born 100 years ago he would have been a frontier soldier, a stage coach driver... a rider of the pony express.

 

He has eyes that look over mountains...he likes to see the other side of hills....

 

he eats better than a banker, dresses like Texas Rancher, is more independand than newly elected senator...

 

He's  an authority on politics, women, highway construction, baseball....and the best way to run a trucking company...

 

He likes the feel of the night wind in his face and the sound of a purring motor...

 

He lives by the code of the road, and passes no man by who needs a helping hand...

 

He's got problems, and is not basheful in airing complaints about the state of the world at large....

 

And every trip he threatens to get off the road and live like other men...

 

But he never does....Because the highway is a flirting lorelei who hums a haunting tune for the men who chase the horizon on spinning wheels...

 

And when the tires sing...and the road is straight...and the moon is bright on a ribbon of cross country highway, he's the happiest most useful man in America...

 

                                                                  He's a truck driver..

 
 

The above plaque was hanging on my grandfathers wall over 40 years ago and now it hangs on mine.
I don't know who wrote it, but it described a Truck Driver then, Most that I  have known,  some of today, and hopefully more tomorrow.

 

                                                           Keep on trukin'  NiteOwl......