![]() 06/06/2014 at 15:41 • Filed to: nostalgia, TWMG | ![]() | ![]() |
Cherish every moment with your loved ones...it's worth it.
My grandfather was a truck driver for many years. He's 85 years old now and recently had heart surgery so I've been getting more and more stories out of him.
One went something like this (putting in quotes but paraphrasing):
"I was driving my truck through Boston and into Cambridge one night. It was late and I was coming up to a right turn. I signaled right but was in the middle lane to swing the turn...as I was making the turn some little sport car tried to whip down the right lane before me. He had to stop at the corner because I was already onto the street but he was too far forward and my trailer drove over the front of his car, crushing it. I pulled over and got out of the truck to make sure the trailer was ok. The guy was screaming at me and yelling about how I ruined his car and that I would pay for what I did. I pointed at the company name on the side of the trailer and said, "buddy, if you have a problem take it up with them." Then I got in the truck and continued on my way to finish my route."
I was dying laughing, partly in disbelief and partly because I couldn't see my grandfather act like a badass.
Then again, the story he was telling me prior to this one was about how he used to street race in Cambridge when he was in his 20's. He had a 1940 Mercury I believe and he loved to work on it...get it ready for his Friday nights. (During this part my grandmother got really upset because she thought he was being a bad influence in reliving his "glory days")
He leaned back in his chair and mused that he just could not beat a late 30's rat rod. It was his nemesis. He could beat everyone else or at least be competitive but that guy's car was always one step ahead of him. He was able to be a passenger in one of the races and said that while they were going along he was confused because it was like passing parked cars.
The speeds were different then and as time passes the stories become victims of human memory and storytelling but I think that the overall narrative holds true.
I hope so. And I hope I never forget his stories. He was telling me more before his surgery because he didn't think he would wake up from it.
I need to stop typing now...gotta find the onions.
As a note, I believe my grandfather was a trucker sometime between 1960 and 1980...but I honestly have no idea.
![]() 08/04/2014 at 16:34 |
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Who's cutting onions in the damn office again? Damnit!