Happy October everyone! As I struggle to accept that reality, this poem is a rather long one, but it should be fun to read, if you’re a truck nerd like me. I’m sure by now you’ve all seen the movie Convoy at least 100 times. If not, then I have no words for you, just a gasp of unbelief and astonishment. This poem is just a lengthy rhyming overview of the gist of that timeless classic movie of all movies. Granted, Smokey and the Bandit is a worthy contender, if only we could get Martin Penwald (aka Rubber Duck) and Cledus Snow (aka The Snowman) to run on a presidential ticket – that would be pretty awesome! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this poem I call Penwald.
PENWALD
By Trevor Hardwick
Martin Penwald drove a truck, from out in Albuquerque,
Another independent, out there tryin’ to earn a buck.
Anyone who knew him, knew he was a legend,
And when they called him, they called him Rubber Duck.
All he really wanted, was to mind his own dang business,
Getting into trouble, never really crossed his mind.
But Spider Mike, and Love Machine, they always tagged along,
And trouble had a funny way, of creeping up behind.
They ran into ol’ dirty Lyle, in a heated confrontation,
Lyle was a lawman, but he’s crooked as a snake.
Bustin’ truckers just for fun, he’d wear an evil smile,
He represented the law, but he was always on the take.
Spider Mike and Love Machine, were sitting at a diner,
While Rubber Duck was chilling, with a waitress that he knew.
Dirty Lyle came strolling in, to ruffle up some feathers,
He preyed upon the truckers, and a rowdy brawl ensued.
Others joined the fight, and pretty soon the place was thumping,
With truckers snappin’ cue-sticks, across the backs of Johnny-Law.
By the time the fight was over, all the cops were taking snoozes,
All the truckers hit the highway, and the owners left in awe.
Thus began a convoy, fueled with righteous indignation,
Largecars and battle scars, and a couple missin’ teeth.
The Duck was out in front, and they all followed from behind,
Staying smooth on the surface, paddling like the devil underneath.
Mile after mile, it seemed, the convoy grew much larger,
Gaining notoriety, while running from the chumps.
Each and every driver, had their reasons they were running,
The double-nickel limit, or the prices at the pumps.
Every little roadblock, that the law would set before them,
Was met with rolling vengeance, from a thousand screamin’ trucks.
And Martin had ‘em shaking, in their boots when he confided,
His Nitromannite tanker load, could light the whole place up.
Through a series of events, they drew attention from the governor,
But he tried exploiting all of them, to gain public support.
He figured he could use the Duck, to rally up more voters,
But the feud between the Duck and Lyle, made his plans fall short.
Lyle captured Spider Mike, and locked him up in Texas,
So Rubber Duck drove through the night, to bust him out of jail.
You best believe those other guys, they followed in behind him,
Then leveled-out that sleepy town, instead of posting bail.
So, there they were face to face, Rubber Duck and Lyle,
A broke-down piece of meanness, and a man without regret.
The rubble of the jailhouse, was falling down around them,
Spider Mike was freed, oh, but this ain’t over yet!
Running from the law again, and running out of options,
They recognized their shot at freedom, was running out of rope.
So, rather than returning, to the path of their destruction,
They all agreed that Mexico, might be their only hope.
Then right there at the river, where you cross the nation’s border,
Lyle was just waiting, with an anti-aircraft tank.
Things got out of hand real quick, from citations to munitions,
But stubborn pride and dirty Lyle, are who we have to thank.
The Duck took just a moment, to absorb the situation,
He stuffed that Mack in gear, and then mashed her to the floor.
He hit that bridge a-running, and the bullets started flying,
The casings showered to the ground, until there wern’t any more.
Halfway across the bridge, that ol’ tanker truck went flying,
The trailer blew sky-high, and then the Mack went in the drink.
With hellfire on the bridge above, and Mack parts in the river,
That was all, for Martin Penwald, so some of you might think.
The truckers gathered round, and held a service in his honor,
They did their best, to lay to rest, and pay respects to him.
But (spoiler alert) he didn’t die, the day he hit that river,
Because you’ll never see, a Rubber Duck that couldn’t swim!
