Quintus Horatius Flaccus was born some sixty-five years before Christ and died eight years before the Savior’s birth. Known in the English-speaking world as Horace, he was the leading Roman lyric poet during the reign of Augustus the first Emperor of the Roman Empire. “Carpe diem” or seize the day and “non omnis moriar” are all Horace originals from a long time ago. In Horace’s poetic style he expressed his personal and emotional feelings. In his world lyric poems did not have to rhyme, and even today do not need to be set to music or to a beat. “Perfect” I thought! I’ll be a poet in the style of the great Horace! No music and no rhyme, I got the time, let the writing begin!
WARNING! This is long!
Hard to believe that September has come and gone and we’re now well into October. Where has all the time gone? And hey! What about summer? Where’d that go? There’s so many stories I could tell, from my experiences of the last three months since going solo — and even a few before then, but so little time to write them all down and my access to the ‘net has been limited. I’ve gone through a month-long dry spell lately but hope to “catch up” … just a bit anyway with this latest entry that’s beyond overdue.
I’m back in Sparks, Nevada after an all-night trip Friday night from Fontana, Ca. to Reno. It was a long drive across the Mohave Desert and northward between the Sierra Nevada Mountains to the west and Death Valley to the east. Most of the 460 mile trip was along the two lanes of U.S. Highway 395. Only some phone calls, the occasional headlights of other cars, small-town lights in the distance, and a stop or two along the deserted road, to admire a very dark sky and it’s millions of stars, helped break up the monotony. Continue reading
Who can’t recall where they were and what they were doing six years ago today? It’s hard to believe that it’s been that long, and harder yet to believe that we’ve not experienced a similar attack since. Somebody must be doing something right! It’s one of those days we will always remember and one certainly never to be forgotten, especially in these days of political debate. Life can and does go on, BUT NEVER, NEVER forget! Our very culture and our way of life depend on it.
These are the times that try men’s souls: The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict the more glorious the triumph. ~~ Thomas Paine, The Crisis, December 1776. Continue reading
My thanks as always to all those that visit here and for your words of praise.
I’m in Memphis, Tennessee tonight at a truck stop along Interstate 40 after running a load of footwear from Dexter, Maine to Mabelvale, Arkansas, a little community just southwest of Little Rock. I dropped my trailer early last night at a Dillard’s Department Store Distribution Center and then spent the night in nearby Benton. While here in Memphis I’d love to visit Elvis’ Graceland but there’s no time this trip to venture the less than ten mile distance. Where would I park anyway?
As I drove into Little Rock yesterday, along southbound I-30, I crossed the Arkansas River and could see a short distance to the east the Clinton Presidential Center. Set along the banks of the river within a park setting the building is a bit unique with a large section elevated above the ground. As much as I tried I really didn’t find the architecture all that impressive. But the huge and even dramatic First Pentecostal Church nearby more than made up for it. Continue reading
I sit this morning in Willard, Ohio, about an hour or so drive west of Akron. I arrived last night at 7 p.m. eastern time after driving with only one short fueling and a bathroom break for a straight twelve hours. My Driver Manager phoned me along the way indicating the “consignee” was “chomping at the bit” to receive my load of 12 large paper rolls weighing in at more than 42-thousand pounds. But, When I arrived I found out I had an appointment time of 5:30 the following afternoon. To say the least I’m not a happy camper, especially in light of the fact that I could have stopped at one of two truck stops some 40 miles east of here. Instead I’m stuck here in a dirt lot among other disgruntled and waiting truckers next to the delivery docks.
On top of all this my Qualcomm communication keyboard hasn’t worked for several days and there is no cell phone service here in Willard. But I suppose things could be worse. Continue reading
I’m parked at a Pilot Truck Stop in Springdale, Arkansas, just down the road from Bentonville and the Wal-Mart Distribution Center where I make my next delivery tomorrow morning. My load is nearly 37,000 pounds of mens and ladies watches. A “high value load” as they’re sometimes called. (I ended up with the assignment I’d thought I’d lost in my previous post). Bentonville also happens to be where Sam Walton opened his first Wal-Mart store in 1962 and where the world’s largest retailer is headquartered. The original “five and dime” store pictured above now serves as a Wal-Mart “Visitor Center” in Bentonville.
I arrived here at 1:30 this afternoon. After an hour or so visiting the truck stop store, updating my log and a bit of tidying up my small surroundings I laid down for a nap and just woke. Matt Drudge talks on the radio.
Hard to believe that August is already upon us and summer is about to wind down and give way to cooler temperatures, at least in many parts of the country. But let’s not be too premature, there’s still the next 30 days as well as September and maybe part of October to enjoy. Maybe I can stay down in the southern part of the country and not see any snow or temps below 60 all winter long! I doubt it though.
I’m in Mexico! At least it feels that way. Everywhere I go I see signs in Spanish and everyone I hear seems to be speaking the same as I await another assignment. I just completed a 340 mile trip from Phoenix to the “Otay Mesa” area south of San Diego. Even further south yet of National City and Chula Vista! Heck I’m so close to Mexico even the Border Patrol checks me out as they pass. I saw a border patrolman on a four-wheeler a few hours ago arrayed in a camouflage helmet and combatish green outfit with holster ready to do battle. He passed my parked truck seeming to be on the lookout for something or someone outside Swift’s Otay Mesa Terminal on Calle de Linea (that’s the name of the street). Continue reading