Lonely Work It Must Be

Lonely work it must be
      Seems so anyway from afar
Hauling jumbo rigs all over the country

Sitting alone in a cab
      Radio and CB the constant companions
Having so much power and responsibility
      Handling the controls, constant reminders
To push it, use "do-the-limit" speeds
      Through all kinds of weather year-round
Checking in at intervals at truck stops
      Times to catch up with old buddies
            Or folks who look like buddies
Feeling the pressure, trying to make a living
      Put meat and potatoes on the table for a family
Finally making it home, a good job done
      With little time to rest though
Having to head out to the highways
      Deliver the merchandise three, four, maybe eight states away

Could be exciting, too, get to see so much
      Move about this vast country, meet all kinds
Lay claim to having driven in all the Lower 48
     Know a sense of accomplishment
Over coffee in the diner, driver says
      "Feel like you are your own boss, mister
At least for those hours with the wheel in your bare hands
      Boss man doesn't get to see all this, no sir
Feel the power, the surge, the drive
      Mix it up with brother truckers at the stops"
He says looking up and down the counter, 7 a.m., Tuesday
            Smiling his eyes now gaze at some vision vivid behind his glasses
      "Climb those passes, cross those desserts
Plow through those storms, arrive triumphantly
      In the biggest cities in the world
            Or in every little heartbeat hamlet in America
                  Don't matter, all across the country
                        God, I love it...
Sure, sometimes hate it, too"

       Lonely work, it must be,
Seems so anyway from afar
      Hauling jumbo rigs all over the country


For Conversations With Walt
Denis J. Kelly
Oct. 26, 2011