Articles by Brian Jackson
The Ballad of the Everyday Hero
11 September 2012
His hands clench on the steering wheel.
The radio is blasting Styx, and the sidewalk is screaming in his ear. The light traffic of 7AM suburb mingles with the smell of exhaust, and he gathers it all in his nostrils, facing the horizon with a steel jaw. The odd middle-aged woman is setting out an offering by the curb; he honors her with a brief stop. Leaping back into the cabin, his engines roar, and the truck is moving before he's even sitting down again.
The driveways are excusing their drivers, and the wave of commuters stirs out onto the road. Blinded by the rising sun, they join the death waltz. Our hero tightens his grip and dances above the fray. He won't be swayed by the brilliant glare of a hundred windshields -- he flips his sunglasses on in a practiced motion, setting his vessel towards the horizon and swearing under his breath that as long as there is a God in heaven, there will be a garbageman on earth.Tweet
Is this a new thing with you; are you becoming the urban poet?