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Nanny, Nanny, Boo-Boo |
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Motorists can offer many insights into life. Perhaps our roadways
could be considered somewhat of a microcosm of life itself. Vehicles
of all shapes, sizes, and colors traveling to a multitude of destinations,
controlled by an even wider variety of personalities. I suppose
one of the most imposing figures ever to grace our roads is the
tractor-trailer truck, commonly known as the eighteen-wheeler. Piloted
by a fraternity of proud professionals, these giants of the highway
cross milestone after milestone as a matter of routine, ever mindful
of their obvious advantage over that American icon -- the Sunday
driver.
-------I'll never forget an event I
witnessed years ago in which these two diverse slices of life engaged
in a brief encounter. Like a whale, once strong and proud in his
ocean domain, now finding himself helpless on the beach, this eighteen-wheeler
found himself grounded on a small city side street near a busy intersection.
He had maneuvered his rig in and out of the intersection with diligence.
The frustration was evident on his round face as he neared the completion
of his seemingly endless mission, turning toward the small road.
Just as he made the final turn of the massive wheel and began to
move forward, a woman in a small car, oblivious to all the world
around her, darted up to the stop sign and took up what she obviously
considered her half of the street. I could see the truck driver's
blood begin to boil as his eyes became large and full of fire. I
was almost afraid to watch what would happen next as this muscle
bound man in his massive machine reached the flash point. I squinted
my eyes and ducked as the moment arrived, then watched in disbelief
as this powerful man got his revenged ... He stuck out his tongue!
© 2004 - The Trill House |
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