They say there’s a season to all things in life, meaning that change is imminent. I admit that I typically hate change. I like things to stay the same, and I favor the old ways over the new. The trucking industry is rooted in American folklore and in an image of freedom and individualism, but this industry is not immune to change. Currently, it seems as though the regulations and technology are changing the trucking industry faster than the latest cell phones become outdated! For as much as I love the older, traditional style and personalities of the big old trucks of yesterday, I recognize the seasonal change toward economical and aerodynamic trucks that can still barely keep up with the often ridiculous regulations. I believe in the old ways of a person being able to rebuild and reuse his older equipment in order to earn a profitable living and sense of accomplishment, but the lawmakers have been pretty successful in making it nearly impossible to do so. This leads great people to either leave the industry or go further in debt to replace their trustworthy beloved rigs. It’s so sad to witness such a drastic and mass exodus of generations of hard-working people from the trucking industry. I may buy a new truck to comply with California’s strict emissions regulations, or I may stop doing business in California altogether (like so many others will do). But even if they make it impossible to drive a classic, traditionally-styled truck, they can’t regulate my spirit. I still have the old days coursing through my veins, and if I drive a truck with a sloped hood and an auto-shift transmission, in my heart, it’s still a long-hooded A-model, a Pete 359, or a cabover with 12 feet between the stacks and the reefer! This poem is about the way things were, in my mind, and a very reluctant acceptance of the way things are. In trucking, like everything else, there is a season to change, and therefore, a season to grow – if you choose to look at it that way.
SEASON OF CHANGE
By Trevor Hardwick
So I’ve pulled out of the driveway,
I’ve gotta set my mind to go.
There’s a changing in the seasons,
But there’s still a threat for snow.
Now before I hit the freeway,
I see the houses in my town.
They’ll be here, but I’ll be far far away,
By the time the sun goes down.
I throw a cartridge in the tape deck,
I throw the sticks against the dash.
In my mind I see it my way,
But those are figments of the past.
I used to hear the sound of diesel,
Rollin’ horsepower through the stacks.
I used to feel the road beneath my seat,
I’d like to have the old days back.
I used to stop the clock at nap time,
But now I must keep pushing on.
If I don’t utilize the time at hand,
Then all my driving time is gone.
I used to eat at sit-down restaurants,
Now I grab some grub to go.
I used to chit-chat on the ol’ CB,
But now there’s no one else I know.
I used to take the two-lane blacktop,
But now it’s mostly Interstate.
Maybe someday things will slow back down,
And we won’t all be running late.
Maybe we’ll bring back the freedom,
That once lured most of us to drive.
Maybe we’ll take back control of the wheel,
And keep this industry alive.
Not sure what I’m really saying,
The point I’m making is obscure.
Guess I’m coping with the way things are,
And longing for the way they were.
So, I’ve pulled out of the driveway,
Gotta set my mind to go.
There’s a changing in the seasons,
And it’s time for things to grow.
