Truck Driver's Blues

I woke up early this morning, and reflexively reached for the alarm clock, but then remembered I didn’t do that alarm clock shit anymore.  I rolled out, sat on the edge of the bed, and grinned.  This new reality was going to take some getting used to, all right.  But it was a nice problem to have.

You see, I’m a truck driver.  Long haul is my specialty, and, like the song goes, I’ve driven “every kind of rig that’s ever been made” all over the USA, for the last twenty years or so as one of the best of the best, an owner-operator.

And the thing is, I’m still driving today - right now, in fact.  After I get some coffee in me I’ll turn on my laptop and find out where my truck is.  And that’s the thing that has me grinning to think about, the idea that my new truck is out there on the road right now, making me money with every mile that rolls under its fancy new individually powered wheels driven by electric motors supplied by the battery pack that sits up front where the engine used to be.  There’s no cab, of course, just an aerodynamic cover to maximize stability as it rolls along with a 70,000 pound load in the walking-floor equipped self-loading trailer, the wheels of which are also powered.  Electric motors having maximum torque at stall speed means the eighteen driven wheels can hum along at 75 miles an hour all day and all night, with stops at the service platform every 600 miles or so for a 15-minute battery swap.  And the real beauty of it, of course, is that, without an old grouch like me behind the wheel trying to grind out as many miles as possible in the limited driving time allowed for humans, my truck sits in the slow lane, happy to roll along as fast as traffic allows while still leaving plenty of room in front for entrances and exits, all while consuming zero diesel.

I understand some truck stops keep a fuel tank in the ground and an old pump, just for nostalgia sake and to keep some of the old Luddites happy, but the rest of them are now converted battery swap joints, while the few remaining restaurants are living on tourist and local traffic, and the whores, shoplifters, petty thieves and homeless beggars have long gone the way of ultra-low-sulfur diesel around here.  The UBI we enacted years ago, as it became obvious that most traditional “jobs” were going the way of the steam locomotive in the modern era, has removed the junkies and nut cases from our public areas and got them taken care of.  I’m still surprised that the Powers That Be were smart enough to realize that truck drivers were an essential part of our economy and society and passed the law that allowed one robot truck to each driver and awarded that person the total earnings from that truck.  Surprised, yes, but very glad they did, with a lot of pressure applied by everybody out here in the real world on the politicians we elected.  Just like every ironworker gets the money earned by their replacement robot, and every electrician and carpenter, too.

That reminds me, I have a meeting this afternoon with the neighborhood cleanup committee. We’re talking about rehabbing a couple of old service stations in the neighborhood with the help of the construction ‘bots and turning them into music hangouts.  We’ve got enough kids playing these days we can have a Battle of the Bands every Friday night for weeks without rotating the players.  The new playgrounds and ballfields we had to build when so many more parents had time to help with their kids’ Little Leagues and Junior Football games are starting to produce world-class talent, and the local schools, because so many of us have time for Booster Clubs and PTA stuff, are on a roll with the college applications going up all the time.

Looking back, I realize it was all worth the battle we started, to take back our country from the Robber Barons who controlled our lives for decades and stand on the principle of One Robot Per Person that has made it possible for everyone to be freed from the drudgery and grunt work that used to be inevitable, not to mention the idea that when you couldn’t work anymore you were useless trash to be tossed into the streets.  The funny thing was, and the way it worked out, that when you take economic pressure off people and provide them with the basics of life along with a path to do better individually, suddenly a whole bunch of crime goes away too.  It’s so obvious that criminals are driven either by the hunger of an addiction they can not control or the anger that a young, strong person feels as they realize that all the decks are stacked against them with no way out, it’s a wonder we were so greedy, those of us who had a say, that we didn’t realize that the obvious benefit that flows to the rich as well as the poor when society is stable and everyone’s needs are met is true security.  No more gated enclaves, no threats of kidnapping, no security cams everywhere, no slums, no neighborhood patrols, no guns going off in the night.  Sure, it cost the rich a big part of their cash at the time, but it’s not like they couldn’t afford it, and most of them now realize how much better off they are, too.  No Big Brother is a good thing, and they’re still rich, if not as much.

But it all started with the election of 2020, when we went into the voting booth and threw out the liars, the grifters, the cheaters, the demagogues and the party hacks on both sides and replaced them with people just like us, who listened to what we said and went and did what we wanted for everybody’s benefit.

And that’s why I’m grinning this morning, as I sit in front of my laptop watching through the remotes as my truck drops a load off in Chattanooga, Tennessee and picks up another one for Rhode Island somewhere.  I might go visit it next time it comes through town to pat it on the fender and thank it for the money that shows up in my account every week.  Yep, life is good here in the USA.  Raise the flag.  :-{)}