a recent road trip
my wife and i just moved from waco, texas to richmond, virginia.
we drove- two vehicles, she in her car, and i in the rental moving truck.
currently an excessive selection of memoirs and such from road trips offer fantastic reflections of what it's like to hit the open road in some capacity. further, much of the music that i consider great, was likely written and refined on the road. personally, i often find myself thinking about the interconnectedness of roads, highways, interstates, driveways and even sidewalks- not in a religious tone, but in a structural sense. that's a huge construction. its hard for me to imagine a larger, more expansive project...
instead of a poem from the trek, id like to make a confession. "i could be a trucker."
the thickness of my beard, lacking; my rough-neck attitude, sub-par; my bladder, shallow. many of my long-haul trucker archetypes do not align with the profession. but there is something sexy about the tv show ice road truckers. i want to be one- kinda.
as i flick my blinker to change back to the slow lane, the massive, emotionless tuck in my rear-view flashes its head lights and i know, or i believe, that the trailer connected to the back my 22 foot rental is adequately past and ready to move back over. i settle back in the slow lane and cars like ants rush past me on my left as if my toddler-nephew dropped his snow cone on a hot summer's day. and i think to myself, "pshh, cars." i like to think my fellow truckers express similar frustrations.
almost simultaneously, i see my wife drive by in her little honda. and then i remember, im really one of them too-
truckers have a community. at fuel stations that scream of diesel fumes; at packed public rest stops; at the site of a blown out tire on the side of the road. this community is spiritual- not in a christian flavor, but in an unspoken, shared desire to arrive.
we drove- two vehicles, she in her car, and i in the rental moving truck.
currently an excessive selection of memoirs and such from road trips offer fantastic reflections of what it's like to hit the open road in some capacity. further, much of the music that i consider great, was likely written and refined on the road. personally, i often find myself thinking about the interconnectedness of roads, highways, interstates, driveways and even sidewalks- not in a religious tone, but in a structural sense. that's a huge construction. its hard for me to imagine a larger, more expansive project...
instead of a poem from the trek, id like to make a confession. "i could be a trucker."
the thickness of my beard, lacking; my rough-neck attitude, sub-par; my bladder, shallow. many of my long-haul trucker archetypes do not align with the profession. but there is something sexy about the tv show ice road truckers. i want to be one- kinda.
as i flick my blinker to change back to the slow lane, the massive, emotionless tuck in my rear-view flashes its head lights and i know, or i believe, that the trailer connected to the back my 22 foot rental is adequately past and ready to move back over. i settle back in the slow lane and cars like ants rush past me on my left as if my toddler-nephew dropped his snow cone on a hot summer's day. and i think to myself, "pshh, cars." i like to think my fellow truckers express similar frustrations.
almost simultaneously, i see my wife drive by in her little honda. and then i remember, im really one of them too-
truckers have a community. at fuel stations that scream of diesel fumes; at packed public rest stops; at the site of a blown out tire on the side of the road. this community is spiritual- not in a christian flavor, but in an unspoken, shared desire to arrive.
Jake, I hope and pray your transition is good and that you definitely "arrive."
ReplyDeletethanks jody
ReplyDeleteI didn't know you left waco! What do you do in VA? This is Tyler Noblett btw
ReplyDelete