Skunk Breath

It has been a while since I’ve blogged, and I find my fingers itching to ramble aimlessly about something. Anything. I decided to keep it light-hearted; go back in time, to my car selling days, and reminisce about a cold and rainy Saturday in October.

If you have heard that the best time to purchase a vehicle is at the end of the month, you were correctly informed. The pressure that envelopes a car dealership, from owners to management, and from the sales team to finance, is so thick that a General Manager might almost miss the bundle of one-hundred dollar bills that the owner is hurling in his direction Read more »

The Trucker

When he hits the Big Slab, his heart is sad. The memory of little faces looking up at him begging for one more day at home. With a little luck, clear weather, and good traffic, he will see his family again in a week or so. He points his rig towards Shaky-Town and it’s hammer down.

00121For the trucker, there is not a schedule that he can plan his life around to spend more time with his loved ones. He can’t promise them that he will be home for birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, or even Holidays. He is prepared to leave on a Sunday and drive until his trailer is empty, then reload and head back. He is expected to arrive at his destination early, smile at the receiver at the warehouse window, who never makes eye contact, and patiently sit waiting to be unloaded or reloaded. He is expected to sit for hours, and not complain, even though he knows the sooner he leaves the more time he gets to spend with his loved ones back home. He is often late to his next destination before he ever hits the highway,

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An Ex Amish Independence

                                                               March 14, 1994

The boy adjusted his gallouses and tried not to look over his shoulders as the family farm disappeared slowly behind him. The red barn was the reminder to fade, reminding him of the life he was leaving behind. It was early afternoon. The snow was only about sixteen inches deep. He pulled apart the middle two strands of the barb wire fence and climbed through. His mind was made up. The world held too much for him to remain captured on such a small island for the rest of his life. The men in the community who had become his father since his own father had passed two years earlier, were not going to rule him and his life ever again. He was an adult now. He would make his way and live the sinner’s life that he had been warned about since he was a child sitting between his little brothers on the hard church pews listening to the bishop preach against the evils of the world. Now he would live the life that he wanted to live during this short time on earth, and then he would die, go to hell and face the consequences forever. It was a decision he had wrestled with, and now at fourteen, he was ready. He was at peace.










          Summer 1997


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