Welcome to March! I mean, it’s still wintertime, but not for much longer! I am eagerly looking forward to the spring. I’m sure we’re all familiar with the phrase “livin’ the dream” and use it often. Usually, it’s a reply I’ll give to someone when they ask how things are going, or what I’ve been up to. It just seems like a funny way to imply that I’m doing exactly what I’ve always dreamed of doing. In this poem, I imply that same phrase, but in a different context. What if this actually IS a dream I’m living in? How cool would it be if I suddenly woke up as an 11-year-old kid, riding with my dad in one of his cool old trucks, and the responsibilities of being an adult were postponed, yielding to the innocence and wanderlust of my youth? How sweet it would be to have my dad running the show again! I don’t mean to imply that I dislike how my life has turned out, I just love savoring the memories of how it used to be. It’s true that I’m actually experiencing the aspirations I had as a kid, but I still wouldn’t mind waking up and realizing I’m 30 years younger and the world has went back to being slow. Either way, I’m happy to be “livin’ the dream” and trucking every day! I would like to thank Dylan Haycraft of Waverly, IL for providing the great photo for this month’s poem. I saw this picture on Facebook and thought it went perfectly with my poem. The photo, taken by Jill Fanning, captured Dylan’s son Bentley chasing after his dad as he rolled away. If you look close, you can even see Dylan’s face in his side mirror. My thanks to Dylan, Bentley and Jill for allowing me to use this amazing photo.
LIVIN’ THE DREAM
By Trevor Hardwick
For twenty-plus years, I’ve been livin’ the dream,
Rushin’ the wind, and swimmin’ upstream.
Chasin’ my tail, and chasin’ the line,
Chasin’ a dream, from a previous time.
If this is a dream, then let me wake up,
Eleven years old, in Daddy’s old truck.
Flyin’ down the road, with dad at the wheel,
If this is a dream, then I wish it was real.
If this is a dream, I’ve been sleeping too long,
Let me wake up, where my heart once belonged.
Chasin’ the sun, in the west Texas heat,
Next to my dad, in the passenger seat.
If this is a dream, well it sure does seem real,
And I’m not so sure, if I like how it feels.
I’m all grown up, and the old man is gone,
Now I’m the old man, and the cycle goes on.
If this is a dream, then sound the alarm,
Let me wake up, loading hay on the farm.
Helping my dad, toss the ropes on the load,
Then riding along, as he heads down the road.
If livin’ the dream, means leavin’ behind,
The image of trucking, from some other time.
Then someone please wake me, say it ain’t so,
Awaken the passion, I had long ago.
If this is a dream, then don’t let me sleep,
Let me wake up, in the memories I keep.
Sittin’ with dad, in a truck stop café,
Or passin’ the miles, with nothing to say.
If this is a dream, I’m thankful I’m here,
But I’d love to wake up, and turn back the years.
I’ll wake to the sound, of him setting the brakes,
And smell the aroma, a fuel-island makes.
I’ll jump out of bed, and gather my thoughts,
Then stumble inside, for some burgers and tots.
And as he sits stirring, his coffee and cream,
I’ll tell him I’m glad, I was livin’ the dream!