Little Red Riding Hood and the Big, Red Freightliner
A year ago, my husband and I became owner-operators of a beautiful big, red Freightliner. I imagined us making money and seeing the country; my husband, who had been on the road for 15 years, said we would only see highways and be broke most of the time. Nevertheless, I held on to my romantic ideas of living a carefree life full of many wonderful adventures.
My first trip out we went west to Oregon. The Oregon Trail is not what I thought it would be. No horses and no relics along the road, unless you count the road kill. Then I noticed the truck in front of us. His brakes were smoking, and I was thinking he should use one of those runaway truck ramps. Then I started thinking maybe we should use the runaway ramp, too, but my husband reassured me our brakes were fine and not to worry. Still, I found myself looking in the mirror to make sure he knew what he was doing.
A hundred miles later, I thought, “Oh my God, think that I just saw Bigfoot.” Thus began my search for Bigfoot. I did see some trees move in the wind that I thought might be Bigfoot, but my husband, saying something about schedules and safety, refused to pull over and let me check it out. He really hates to upset those girls in the Safety Department.
Anyway, out of the corner of my eye, I thought for sure I had seen Bigfoot. I looked over at my husband to ask him one more time to stop. That’s when I realized he was getting pretty hairy and in need of a shower. Thinking this over, I came up with a theory: Maybe Bigfoot is just another driver who got lost along the way, and maybe every trucker is just a couple of miles and a couple of showers away from being a Bigfoot.
What a wonderful imagination you must have to see Bigfoots lurking around every tree in the forest and every big rig at the truck stop. Clearly, your talents are wasted rolling down the road when you could be writing fairy tales. I’ve got a title already picked out: “Little Red Riding Hood and the Big, Red Freightliner.”
With apologies to Brothers Grimm, the story could go something like this: Looking for adventure, Little Red Riding Hood hops in a big, red Freightliner and looks over at her driver-husband behind the wheel and says, “Hubby, what big arms you have!” “All the better to hug you with, my dear,” he replies. “Hubby, what big ears you have,” she says. “All the better to hear you with,” he replies. “Hubby, what’s up with those big teeth?” We all know where this little story is heading.
Your greatest show of imagination, however, was the romantic notion that driving a truck leads to a carefree life full of money, sightseeing and adventure. Now that’s what I call a real fairy tale.
Murphy and Lucky Dog