Category Archives: doggy tractor-trailerin’


So when WebSavvyMom commented on my previous post, saying “What do you think they say about you?”

I was all, like, “That’s a good question, I honestly don’t know”.

And then, cue the bafflement, ’cause, guess what? I’d never even thought about any of what I wrote or thought framed within the perspective of that question. Like THAT’S a surprise. Whew. I do love my crappy sentences.

But her question haunted me and made me think.


Thinking takes me a long time.

*pause* *again*

Finally, after tortuously thoughtful hours, I realized that, hey, viewed from the perception posed by WebSavvyMom’s comment, that peering from that end of the telescope, I’M probably the freak, that I’M the one most ill-suited to fit in with my new world.

A sobering thought. One that I chased with a shot and a beer.

But it’s true.

It’s me that doesn’t belong. I’m a loner. And the class is all guy’s guys-they all hang and they all roll out at the breaks and smoke cigarettes with the instructor and trade stories and bond together and then they all roll back in together while I sit in the classroom and check e-mail on my iPad or read Carl Hiaasen’s new iBook which is totally fucking hilarious.

The book, I mean.

Man I hope I don’t get beat up.

new world.

On Monday the tractor-trailerin’ began.

I know this is making Miss Carol crazy ’cause she can’t figure out why I’m even doing this because, honestly? I’m not so sure, either.

It’s just something I’ve always wanted to do.

Driving a big-rig, blasting all alone down a lonely highway, hauling 40 tons of whatever with the music cranking and heading for a far-off horizon? How cool is that?

You know, as an idea, anyway?

But Monday was a bit of a wake up call. I never thought or dreamed that truckers-to-be would be rocket scientists or even marginally hip or cool. And, I’m not saying I am and I realize people are products of their upbringing and whatever, but, hey. Whoa.

Our class of 12 squeezed into the little classroom and while our instructor started reading the manual to us I looked around and listened and after three days I’m wondering what it is I did.

There’s a coupla scar-covered guys from Ghana that I’m not sure can write english. You know, like I can.

There’s this one spooky dude that I just hope I’m not ever riding with.

There’s another huge guy covered in tattoos that actually looks pretty harmless. Except, maybe to little kids.

There’s two guys who’ve decided to be my bestest buddies and want to talk to me all the time and tell me what to do. I hate them.

There’s a guy who’s already spent a YEAR at the school studying diesel mechanics and has decided that THAT school didn’t, and couldn’t, teach him anything. He’s very angry.

There’s this one bird-like looking kid that just seems really nervous. I’d actually like to talk to him.

There’s this one big black guy who has NEVER driven anything with a clutch. I’m not quite sure what he was thinking.

And then there’s these two ex-Navy dudes just looking for anything to do now that they’re out of the service. They seem a little lost.

It’s an interestingly new world I’m in. I like learning new things, especially stuff like this that is SO outside my comfort zone and while I think everything’ll be cool, the overall feel is testosterone fueled toughness.


I just hope I don’t get beat up.