There is absolutely no point to this blog. In fact, I may be in danger of losing readers here. It's just that pointless.
Yesterday I didn't have much time to prepare a delicious, wholesome dinner for my darling children, so I took them through the McDonald's drive thru for Happy Meals and drove down by the river to eat. They love it when I do this. They like to watch any freighters that may happen by and "talk" to the ducks.
Quickly, a few facts important to this non-important story. I've lived in Port Huron my entire life. Where Lake Huron ends, the St. Clair River picks up. Across the river is Sarnia, Ontario, Canada. The Blue Water Bridge (now bridges) connects us. Most people who have lived here their whole lives do not find anything unique in the freighters that pass daily (more traffic than the Suez and Panama, combined), the Lake, the River, or that Canada is practically arms length from us. I do. I love it here mainly for those reasons. I find beauty in all of them. Sorry so cheesy.
When we got to the river, there was a freighter passing. Jenna and I try to take mental note of the names of the freighters we see. We didn't recall seeing this one before. This one was especially long and very tall in the back. She watched, mouth open, as it passed beneath the bridges, sure it was going to hit. She noticed that my camera was in the car and made me take a picture as it inched away.
That's Canada right across the way. I don't know why my camera is taking such blurry photos lately. Perhaps it's the operator.
Anyhow, as I went to put my camera away, I looked up at the bridge and noticed what was, hands down, the coolest semi I had ever seen. It was a Tootsie Roll truck. I had to take a picture because I could feel this sweet blog coming on (if you're still reading, it's okay to roll your eyes here).
When you live on a border crossing, you become immune to the trucks. They're always around in great numbers. I live damned near right next door to the bridges. When I go upstairs and look out my bedroom window, that's my view. The bridge from Canada to the U.S. is closest to my house. I can look out and see all of the trucks lined up waiting to clear customs. I've never seen a Tootsie Roll truck before.
I don't even care for Tootsie Rolls to be completely honest. I'm not much of a candy eater. But that truck was cool.
As we were buckling up to drive to soccer practice, I looked up again. The truck was stopped. In the photo above, the truck was right in the middle of the bridge. Once it reached a point where it was directly over the American side, it had to stop to get in line for customs. That was normal. That's not the interesting part (not that any of this is interesting, really.) The interesting part is that in the time since I had taken its picture to the time I was reaching over to grab my seat belt, another Tootsie Roll truck had come over. Now there were not one, but two sweet-ass Tootsie Roll trucks.
Not a great photo, I know. But you can picture it in your head. I know you can.
That's it. My whole story. What does it mean? I just spent my evening in class looking at a bunch of poetry through a deconstructionist lens so I'm not much into interpreting the Tootsie Roll trucks right now.
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