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 40 tons of
rolling steel in his hands....He has horizons in his eyes
He’s a truck driver !
He hauls milk for the nations babies, dresses for the
nations ladies....Steel for our country’s defense.... and
the bread for the nation’s breakfast tables.
He likes straight highways......good home cooking....
slot machines that pay off.....Friendly State Troopers...
and bonus checks.
The road is 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 ordered named, phonies, roadhogs, tough traffic
cops, highway weigh stations, small town justices of the peace...
steep hills......crackling cargo.....and weak coffee.
He’s America on wheels.....He’s big business with a
roadmap in his pocket.
He’s a truck driver !
Without him there would be no gasoline to run the nations
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 for the Pony Express.
He eats better than a banker, dresses like a Texas Rancher,
is more independent than a newly-elected senator.
He’s an authority on politics, women, highway construction,
sports,........and the best way to run a trucking
company.
He likes the feel of the night wind on his face and the
roar of a powerful engine and the whining of 18
tires rolling along this nations highways.
He lives by the code of the road.......and passes
no man by who needs a helping hand.
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
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 !
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