Christian Living
A former magazine writer and editor, John Shore’s life as a Christian writer began the moment when, at 38 years old, he was very suddenly (and while in a supply closet at his job, of all places) walloped by the benevolent hand of God.
John's most recent book is Midlife Manual for Men, which he co-authored with Stephen Arterburn, author of the best-selling Every Man series and host of the nationally syndicated Christian radio show, New Life Live. Midlife Manual is the first of four books John and Steve will be writing together for Bethany House Publishers; the next, Being Christian, will be out in September 2008. John is also the author of I'm OK--You're Not: The Message We're Sending Non-Christians and Why We Should Stop (NavPress); Penguins, Pain and the Whole Shebang (Seabury Books); and co-author, with Richard Lederer, of Comma Sense (St. Martin's). Both Penguins and Comma Sense won San Diego Book Awards for best books in their respective categories (Religious/Spiritual, and How To/Reference).
Yesterday my wife Cat and I were driving on the freeway when she said, "The slogan of the truck we just passed is 'Always Late.'"
"Take a picture!" I said. "Take a picture!"
Being a Superior Human Being Who Always Gets It, Cat immediately started scrounging around in my bag for the camera I keep on me for those occasions when life insists I make fun of it.
"Got it!" she said, pulling out and holding aloft my Kodak Cynico-Matic.
I cleverly maneuvered alongside Mr. Party Tardy; Cat leaned over my lap to get the picture; I tried not to cry as she used my crotch to steady her elbow; and voila: the image above.
So what's the deal with that slogan? Does the owner of the truck have it on his business cards? Is his big sales pitch, "You can count on me to be late! If I'm supposed to be there Tuesday noon, look for me Wednesday morning! If then! Now where's that produce you want hauled?"
And what's with the Evil Death motif? The truck and trailer---both painted Ominous Purple---were festooned with skulls and crossbones. It was like a truck driven by Cap'n Jack Sparrow's son, Thrasher Sparrow, who's into metal. Or maybe the driver's the ultimate fan of the band Death Cab for Cutie. Who knows?
Maybe the skulls aren't meant to be scary. Maybe they're supposed to show what this trucker's customers look like by the time their delivery arrives.
That actually makes sense, because I could not drive slow enough to stay next to this truck---and I drive a Ford Focus. When we first saw the truck we had just started up a long, slight incline on the road, and by the time Cat grabbed my camera, Mr. Purple Wane was so far behind us it was like he was driving in reverse. I basically had to park on the freeway and wait for him to catch up.
I used to be a Teamster; I loaded trucks, and knew a bunch of truck drivers. They were good guys. They took speed---"bennies"---to keep them awake: out of shape, grey haired, big rig drivin' pill poppers. Maybe whomever was driving this truck was the son or daughter of one of those guys. Makes sense.
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(Sort of related post o' mine: Grilled by a Truck.)
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