A TRUCK DRIVER
Dan Valentine
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
40 tons of steel
in his hands . . He has
highways in his eyes.
He's a TRUCK DRIVER!
He hauls milk for the
nations babies, dresses
for the nation's ladies . .
Steel for the nation's
war machines . . . and
bread for the nation's
breakfast tables.
Big boots, work pants and a
cap on the side
of his head, he's a
businessman with grease on
his elbow, philosopher with
a bill of lading in
his pocket, diplomat with a
steering wheel in
his hands. . . .
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 stop
40 tons of wheeled
steel .. to let a 12 ounce
kitten cross the road.
He can tell you where to
get the best piece of
apple pie on the highway .
. . and where the
radar traps are, and which
roads to take to
make the fastest time ...
He hates, in the order
named, phonies,
road hogs, tough traffic
cops, highway weigh
stations, small-town
justices of the peace ...
Steep hills, Cackling
cargo, 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 gasoline to
run the nation's
automobiles ...
No steel to make the
machines, no concrete to
build 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 scout, a
stagecoach 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 a
Texas rancher, is more
independent than a
newly-elected senator . . .
and as temperamental
as an opera prima donna
...
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 on 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 bashful 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 !!!!
