I mostly drove all day, with no adventures at all. I did start getting used to driving a truck, and realized, naturally, that a truck is not just a vehicle, but rather a way of life. So I scanned the radio from some country music, so I can listen to the same music my fellow truck-drivers listen to.
Country songs are either about the small town - memories, friends, family; about the wife, which was usually met back then, in the small town; and trucks. Every song I had listened to had a truck in it. Well, I understand their jealousy. After all, I was once one of them, Until I chose the way of life of the truck driver.
Trucks songs are amusing, I have to admit - this is one of the biggest hits these days among us, truck drivers:
Where there’s biscuits, grits and gravy and the waitress calls you baby
And the starlight’s like a streetlight on a summer night.
We say hell ya and amen, yeehaw, and y’all come back again
And pray that our boys come home alive
And when Old Glory flies, we still hold our hands over our hearts
Where there’s more trucks than cars.
What else can I say, other than “yeehaw”? well, I could say “hell ya”, I guess.
Otherwise, I’m starting to like country music.
I drove all day until I hit Kenova, WV. There’s nothing in Kenova besides Kenovians. There’s a small, cheesy Mexican restaurant where I sat to get dinner.
I ordered the “dinner special” without reading further and got two giant plates with one of every possible Mexican food. I ate most of it anyway and went to bed in the Kenova’s world famous “Hollywood Motel”. Y’all come back again, ok?
No comments:
Post a Comment