Of a day, I became a trucker.

Stuff gotta move around, right?  Everything you use, everything you buy, got there by truck.  I figured it's the one job that can't be outsourced or offshored, though if you listen to the sourer voices in the truck stops, we're soon to be overwhelmed by Mexican and Canadians in unmaintained vehicles.  It pays the bills, I get to travel (I am a very nomadic person, both by inclination and blind dumb luck) and it gives me lots of time to think.

It was kind of a big jump for me, as I'd been working in Minneapolis as a bicycle mechanic.  I am a very avid bicyclist, and at one time I was racking up 40-50 miles a day.  So I carry a bike around with me.  It's nice to be able to unwind after a long day wrestling the rig through traffic, and it lets me lead the semblance of a normal life:  shut the truck down, lock it all up, and ride into town.  Sit down at a table with a tablecloth, eat with a fork and a knife, enjoy my weekly glass of wine or one beer on a Friday night.  Maybe see a movie, walk around, talk to the locals.

It's not a bad life.  More later, okay?

Y'all keep the shiny side up, y'hear?

HENCHMAN clear.