Tiger the dog had a showdown with a fast moving flower truck in the middle of the street and lost.
I was painting sets, working in editorial as an assistant, driving their trucks, lying that I knew how to drive a truck, and doing commercials and documentaries.
If an Englishman gets run down by a truck he apologizes to the truck.
According to the IRS, the wealthiest 400 Americans, who earned an average of roughly $270 million in 2008, paid an average tax rate of just 18.2 percent that year. That’s about the same rate paid by a single truck driver in Rhode Island. It’s not right, and we need to restore fairness to our tax code.
Sending a container from Shanghai to Le Havre emits fewer greenhouse gases than the truck that takes the container on to Lyon.
From 1965 to 1974, I served the best possible apprenticeship for an actor. I learned firsthand how a truck driver lives, what a bartender does, how a salesman thinks. I had to make a life inside those jobs, not just pretend.
I really like to just jump in a truck with your backpack and just drive and go somewhere.
David Bowie, for me, was the butchest guy in town. Jagger was like a truck driver.
People would do the sound of a truck backing up – beeeep, beeeep – as I was sitting down.
My dad was a cross-country truck driver.
It’s important to bring things back from the Space Station because, unlike somebody living at the house where the garbage truck comes by twice a week, they don’t have that in space.
My advice is: if you’ve got to be miserable to write great music, then drive a truck.
When I was a kid, my step dad started this business and would go out and get lost cows and stuff. He was part-time truck driver, farmer and cowboy. He taught me how to ride from an early age.
It was the early 1970s and I was recently divorced. I had three kids and was totally broke. I managed to find work back east on the straw-hat circuit – summer stock – but couldn’t afford hotels, so I lived out of the back of my truck, under a hard shell.
About two months into the Whisky, I borrowed some money and rented a remote recording truck.
I’ve bought perfectly healthy horses for a couple of hundred dollars just as they were about to be loaded on a slaughterhouse-bound truck.
I was living in my truck, bouncing in bars – a 20-year-old kid trying to break up all these red neck fights. But hey, I did what I had to do to survive.
I wouldn’t want to go back over my life. I’ve done it all. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss the Marine Corps. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss the war. I wouldn’t have missed college. Or playin’ for the Colts. I got all the money I need. Five children. I got a truck. I have no regrets whatsoever.
I worked construction clean-up. I was driving a pickup truck at the age of 14 on a construction site. I loved building and being part of the process. You got to see your work.
When I got out of high school, I joined a local blues band in Philadelphia – Woody’s Truck Stop.
My father-in-law’s a truck driver and he said black cars are not very visible. I don’t drive them any more.
With my mother, Julie Andrews Edwards, I’ve authored such children’s books as the ‘Dumpy the Dump Truck’ series, ‘Dragon: Hound of Honor,’ ‘The Great American Mousical,’ ‘Simeon’s Gift’ and ‘Thanks to You: Wisdom from Mother and Child.’
I also remember the second band I was in ever. We were called Hybrid. We got a show at this local street fair, and we were playing on the back of a flatbed truck. There was an ad in the paper, and it said that ‘Hybird’ is playing. I was so mad.
One time I semi-wrecked my uncle’s truck. He told me to back it up into a ditch, but my foot slipped and I gunned it a little too much. But now I use one foot, and I do not run into stuff – at least I try not to.
When I got outta High School I was driving a truck. I was just a poor boy from Memphis, Memphis.
At the age of two-and-a-half, I was run down by a truck. I had gone rogue in the house while my mother was bathing my sister. I went outside and met a friend who promised me candy. Afterward, I walked back by myself across the road where I fell down in the street. A 15-year-old boy delivering bread struck me down.
I often conduct interviews in my truck.
I’m the one who gets called up about a problem. I’m the one who gets called up about the street lighting and the abandoned car. I’m the one who gets blamed if the police don’t arrive. I’m the one they blame if a city truck is broken down.
Studios are passe for me. I’d rather play in a garage, in a truck, or a rehearsal hall, a club, or a basement.
People think that if you get a lot of views, the ad truck just shows up at your front door. That’s just not true.
I’m a slave to the culture, so I see an Audi, a Denali, or an Escalade, my neighbor got the four-door Porsche. I have a really nice truck. But it’s a Durango and I like frontin’! I like to ride by and show off.
These regional series – we need to have them strong to feed drivers to the Truck series. Nothing against ARCA, but NASCAR needs to have their own series be their own streams.
I think about me and my dad taking a road trip from Phoenix to Nashville when I was 19. He’s no longer here with me, but I still drive that same 1994 Chevy truck. I never have bought a new car.
People say a two-man sled is like driving a racecar, and a four-man is like driving a truck. And it feels that way.
When I think about the songs I might record, I ask myself, ‘Can I picture anybody I know back home sitting in their truck cranking this up?’
I was so scared of my father. He’d pull up in his truck and start looking for something I’d done wrong. There was no escape, no excuse, no way out of nothing.
What I like to do is get the family in the pick-up truck… and then we just go for a drive. That’s it!
My father drove a truck, and my mother was a school teacher. They wanted their children to go the traditional route: get good grades, go to college, get a job.
A couple months before I got the audition for ‘Arrow,’ my husband and I had just sold everything we owned, packed our dogs and belongings into a truck, and moved to Los Angles with a prayer and almost no money. When I ended up booking the role, we both cried from joy and gratitude for a week straight.
I grew up with a truck. My dad had one, so I like trucks.
I was doing about five movies a year for many years. I was just so tired. I walked around feeling like a Mack truck hit me.
I like SF environments that seem used, and lived in, every day; not just rolled off a props truck. Look around you! Everything is scuffed, scratched, dinged, faded, even rusty.
I don’t think there’s any real motivation for somebody to be a truck driver. Mine was simple; dad was a truck driver, I wanted to own one.
People often talk about the self-driving car and what will that do. In 32 states, the number one job is to be the driver. But remember, it’s not just the driver. Let’s think about the truck stops along the way. When you suddenly have a lot of other people who are dependent on those careers.
When I first starting making money, when I first made my first six-digits, I was – my big thing was I went to put super unleaded in my truck for the first time.
I was 16. I wrecked my truck and the only way I could pay to fix it was to get a job. So I applied at a Subway.
I was living out of my truck for a short while. My dad wanted to emancipate me at 16 and send me to music college.
My mother always tells me that when I was a little kid, my first ambition was to be a truck driver, and after that, I went through everything from wanting to be a Prime Minister to an air hostess, but never an actor. So I became one, and it was a great journey. I learnt a lot, worked very hard.
My love of horses began in College Park, with me and 10 friends on two couches and a keg of beer in the back of a truck, heading to Pimlico at 6 A.M. to mark our place in the middle of the Preakness infield, where we never saw a horse run.
I like the idea of having a food truck and being a part of community events.
Once, I got lost in the middle of the desert and had to follow the North Star to find the dirt road where my truck was parked a few miles away. Another time, I got stuck in quicksand for two days.
My dad was the district attorney of New Orleans for about 30 years. And when he opened his campaign headquarters back in the early ’70s, when I was 5 years old, my mother wanted me to play the national anthem. And they got an upright piano on the back of a flatbed truck and I played it.
But when I came back into the city for the first time last November, I thought every truck, every building was going to blow up. It has truly changed me something fierce.
I love R&B and hard-hitting, slappy, intense music with deep chords and moody chords. But I also have a thing for bubbly lullaby music. Kind of like ice-cream truck rap.
I got a job immediately after leaving high school; I was lucky – three dollars a week and all I could eat, working on a vegetable truck.
My dream was to go to Nashville. I had my sights set on my dream. I used to have an ’89 Toyota Ford truck. On the front of the truck, I had this license plate with cowboy boots and a guitar that I had airbrushed at Wal-Mart. It said ‘Chasin’ A Dream.’ That was kind of my motto.
Liberal democracies like ours seem, for the most part, to have learned how to avoid meticulously planned mass-casualty plots with the complexity and scale of 9/11. But they don’t know how to keep their citizens safe at night clubs and concerts, in supermarkets, on beachfront promenades, from truck drivers.
