Deregulation

Looking at the World Through a Windshield

A truck-driving rebellion against the regulatory state

|

Trucking Country: The Road to America's Wal-Mart Economy, by Shane Hamilton, Princeton University Press, 305 pages, $29.95

At some point between Sputnik and Watergate, the men who drive trucks entered the cultural corner once reserved for the men who ride horses. In 1970, when Sleepy LaBeef recorded a rockabilly song about a "diesel-dodging, truck-driving asphalt cowboy," he mostly meant it as a joke, but it was a joke with the power of myth behind it: "His smokestack gives the signals / His air horn tells the tale / Roll on little doggies / On down that asphalt trail."

In the 1970s especially, the independent trucker played the role of the stoic cowboy in records, films, and news reports. In some songs and stories, he rode high in the saddle, living a life of joyful independence: "It takes a special breed to be a truck driving man," Merle Haggard sang, "and a steady hand to pull that load behind." The loneliness of the cowboy's life, the solitude and instability, had its big-rig echoes as well. Another Haggard record describes the driver's wanderlust as "a sickness born down deep within my soul," adding: "I've been from coast to coast a hundred times or more / And I ain't found one single place where I ain't been before." When Paul Cowan of The Village Voice covered a turbulent truck blockade in 1973, he portrayed the protesters as "latter-day cowboys, rootless men" who led "a lonely, punishing life" but "can't stand the idea of settling down."

Yet there was one place where the two archetypes diverged. Like their truck-touting descendants, the classic western movies, ballads, and pulp fiction tales were filled with heroic outlaws; it's a short hop from the bandit Jesse James to the Bandit in Smokey and the Bandit. But the pop culture trucker took his rebellion a step further, evolving into a full-fledged revolutionary. In Sam Peckinpah's 1978 film Convoy, a mile-long caravan of vehicles defies the corrupt authorities to call for…well, they never do enunciate a political program. Indeed, they refuse to make a set of demands, as though even that would be a victory for the system.

Though there isn't much realism in Convoy, the movie didn't invent the idea of the driver as a political rebel. The shutdown that Paul Cowan covered for The Village Voice was one of several angry, violent mass actions by independent truckers throughout the decade, cresting with a nationwide eruption in 1979. This wasn't the aimless, existential rebellion of the Peckinpah picture. These were organized protests with a particular set of grievances: high fuel prices, low speed limits, intrusive regulations. And they were launched by leaders with a detailed political agenda.

One of those figures was Mike Parkhurst, a trucker turned reporter whose magazine, Overdrive, aspired to speak for the independent owner-operator; it was filled with exposés and editorials attacking the Teamsters union, the Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC), and the maze of state and federal rules that befuddled and burdened the ordinary driver. In his magazine and in testimony before Congress, Parkhurst called for a sweeping deregulation of his industry, a push that culminated with the Motor Carrier Act of 1980. The new law, sponsored by Sen. Ted Kennedy (D-Mass.) and signed by President Jimmy Carter, radically reduced the ICC's authority, eliminating entry barriers, price controls, and other policies that had protected a cartel of carriers from competition. Before 1980, independent truckers had been limited to transporting farm commodities. Under the new rules, thousands of new firms flooded into the remainder of the industry, driving down prices for manufacturers and consumers alike.

Parkhurst is one of the central figures in Trucking Country, a fascinating study of the hauling business by the University of Georgia historian Shane Hamilton. Those renegade truckers served, in Hamilton's words, as the "militant vanguard of the free-market revolution": a grassroots, blue-collar revolt against the New Deal order. For Hamilton, the drivers were "a firm rebuttal to social commentators who see modern conservatism as a devil's bargain between culturally conservative working-class Americans and economic conservatives in the modern Republican Party." Taking issue especially with the liberal writer Thomas Frank, author of the much-discussed 2004 book What's the Matter with Kansas?, Hamilton argues that "pocketbook politics, not cultural conservatism, framed truckers' disdain for liberalism in the 1970s."

Hamilton is a liberal himself. He speaks favorably, for example, about World War II–era price controls on meat, despite the rationing that necessarily followed; he understands the economics, but he thinks the tradeoff was worth it. Yet unlike Frank, who writes with nostalgia about the New Deal and attributes the rebellion against regulation to a right-wing propaganda blitz, Hamilton has a nuanced understanding of how bureaucracies work in practice. Trucking Country is no brief for deregulation, but the book has few illusions about regulation either. Hamilton's readers, unlike Frank's, will have no trouble discerning why the have-nots haven't always been pleased with the federal apparatus.

Consider the farm policies established during the New Deal. Franklin Roosevelt's agricultural advisers fell, roughly speaking, into two competing categories. One group, representing the old agrarian anti-monopolist tradition, wanted to level the playing field for smaller operators. The others saw big business as an ally, not an enemy; they believed, as Hamilton puts it, that the feds should "cooperate with monopolistic meatpackers and milk distributors to achieve efficiencies in the mass production and mass distribution of food." The second group quickly became dominant, and the policies that followed encouraged consolidation and privilege: Price supports fed the biggest agricultural interests, dairy regulations locked a milk cartel into place, and acreage reduction requirements led to evictions of tenant farmers.

A similar fate befell the young trucking industry. After the Motor Carrier Act of 1935, drivers who wanted to start a new trucking firm "suddenly needed much more than just a truck and trailer to start in business," Hamilton explains. "They needed to gain operating authority as well, which the ICC granted only after lengthy and expensive proceedings meant to discourage competition." There was one bright spot in the law, though—a rare victory for the populist elements of the administration. Agriculture Secretary Henry Wallace "recognized that independent truckers might undermine the monopoly power of railroad-based food processors," so he endorsed an exemption to the ICC's restrictions on the trucking trade. Drivers hauling farm products would be relatively unregulated, a decision that allowed a fleet of tiny trucking firms to flourish. Meanwhile, in the rest of the industry, the government's rules favored large, established companies—and, later, the Teamsters, who negotiated sweetheart contracts with the cartel while disdaining independent drivers.

The exemption expanded in the 1950s, thanks largely to Dwight Eisenhower's secretary of agriculture, Ezra Taft Benson. Like Wallace, though in a different philosophical direction, Benson was an ideological outlier in Washington: A Mormon with roots in the Old Right and the farm cooperative movement, he would eventually join the John Birch Society and write that government should be little more than "a mechanism for defense against bodily harm, theft and involuntary servitude." Benson had been appointed as a sop to pro-market Republicans who had favored Robert Taft over Eisenhower for the presidential nomination. Once in office, he attempted to erase the entire system of crop subsidies, a setup he derided as socialist.

That crusade flopped, and in the end the secretary did not reduce the role of government in agriculture so much as he redirected it. Benson poured public money into technical and marketing research; as industrial agribusiness emerged, his department aimed to help such firms sell their products to more people. Hamilton calls this corporate welfare, and he's right.

But when it came to trucks, Benson made another push for deregulation. Trucks are more flexible than trains, so they could play a substantial role in expanding the big farms' consumer base—especially after Eisenhower created the Interstate Highway System, launching a federal road-building spree. Benson's department argued that frozen foods should be considered a farm product, not a "manufactured" commodity, and thus should fall under the same exemption that allowed unregulated rigs to carry produce. The battle set two captive agencies against each other: the U.S. Department of Agriculture, representing the interests of agribusiness, vs. the Interstate Commerce Commission, representing the transit cartels. In 1956 the Supreme Court ruled in the USDA's favor, and independent truckers soon had more goods to carry.

Two years later, Congress passed a law returning the exemption to its previous dimensions. The lineup on each side of the issue had shifted; some of the frozen food manufacturers who initially favored the change discovered that new competition could injure their interests as well. (If you preferred the stability and high-end equipment of a large trucking firm but didn't want your rivals to take advantage of the smaller companies' lower costs, regulatory barriers could be a boon.) It was a setback for the owner-operators, but as more and more shipping shifted from rails to roads they still saw their market grow.

The independent truckers weren't just an industry but a subculture, one with its own distinctive worldview. Not long after Parkhurst founded Overdrive in 1961, he declared himself a "radical conservative," with the emphasis on radical as much as conservative. When Hamilton tries to describe the perspective Parkhurst represented, the terms he uses include "anarcho-populist," "anarchic libertarianism," and "a full-fledged repudiation of all large-scale institutions." For Parkhurst, the owner-operated truck was a potential alternative to big government, big business, and a corrupt labor union that was in bed with both.

It's small wonder that the truckers became cultural heroes in the 1970s, a time when that ideal of independence was popular across the spectrum, from grassroots Reaganites to the Nixon-hating counterculture. The truckers were hardly the first group of self-employed workers to rebel against both state and corporate power—American history is filled with petit-bourgeois populists with similar resentments—but the drivers' CB jargon and highway blockades captured the public imagination at a time when anti-authoritarian sentiment was surging.

The truckers' political impact teaches an enduring lesson about deregulation: Like any other political cause, it's more likely to succeed when there's a mass movement behind it. There's a less romantic lesson here as well. Trucking was deregulated not simply because independent haulers called for it, nor merely because both Naderite liberals and free market economists thought it was a good idea. Deregulation came because powerful economic interests were split on the question, with big farming operations pushing for looser rules even as the established transportation firms fought to keep the old regs in place. Such a division opens a space for market reforms, but it also shows how hard it is to adopt more sweeping changes. The trucks were deregulated, but the subsidies, regulations, and loopholes that benefit the most influential agricultural companies—and thus shape the trucking industry as well—remain in place.

From the 1930s through the end of the Carter administration, Hamilton's history is thoughtful, detailed, and informative. After the Motor Carrier Act of 1980 is passed, though, he rushes through the Reagan years and afterward in a few superficial pages. If an author aims to explain why blue-collar constituencies would break with the old liberal coalition, it's curious that he would ignore, for example, the Teamsters' endorsement of Ronald Reagan in 1980. It wasn't the first time the group had thrown its support to a Republican—notably, it had favored Richard Nixon over George McGovern in 1972. But surely it's significant that one of the country's most powerful unions would back a president whose speeches were filled with denunciations of big government.

The Teamsters' support for Reagan was the flipside of the independent truckers' support for opening the marketplace: It was an act of revenge against Carter for deregulation. After Reagan took office, his payoff to the union included the appointment of the Teamster-backed attorney Reese H. Taylor to run the ICC. There he promptly did all he could to throw sand in the gears of reform: firing deregulators, reinterpreting the law in more restrictive ways, and constantly butting heads with the more market-friendly commissioners.

In the long run, Taylor could only slow the process, not stop it. At the end of the decade, the trucking industry faced fewer controls than had been in place at Reagan's inauguration. Hamilton's portrait of the '80s as an era of a steadily retreating state doesn't hold up across the board, though; in other areas, from public lands to international trade, liberalization was stymied or even reversed. The regulatory order had been revised, but the maneuvering among interest groups trying to manipulate the system continued. And though it might not fit their cowboy image, the owner-operators learned to play that game along with everyone else. In the wake of the North American Free Trade Agreement, the same Mike Parkhurst who had fought to open trucking to new entrants found himself warning against the dangers of Mexican competition.

The deregulation of trucking is a complex story without the clear-cut heroes of Convoy or Smokey and the Bandit. The world it produced has its problems, not least for those of us who'd like to see those tax-fattened factory farms face the sort of competition that swept through transportation three decades ago. But the deregulation we did get led to lower prices for consumers across America, and by prying open an 18-wheel cartel it allowed many more people to own their own businesses. If you like those changes, thank a diesel-dodging, truck-driving asphalt cowboy.

Jesse Walker (jwalker@reason.com) is managing editor of reason.

NEXT: Daily Caller vs. Slate, Tucker Carlson vs. David Plotz, Count Chocula vs. Frankenberry, Stuffing vs. Potatoes...

Editor's Note: We invite comments and request that they be civil and on-topic. We do not moderate or assume any responsibility for comments, which are owned by the readers who post them. Comments do not represent the views of Reason.com or Reason Foundation. We reserve the right to delete any comment for any reason at any time. Report abuses.

  1. I have Convoy stuck in my head now. Thanks Jesse.

    1. Dangit, I’ve got it, too. Damn that Kris Kristofferson (as an actor, not as a singer or Rhodes Scholar in this instance)!

    2. John, how did you post a comment on this article 25 minutes before it went live?

      1. It’s a permanent hack. From now on, that will be the first comment to all posts here at Hit & Run.

      2. I was reading the article when his comment was posted, if that’s any help. I didn’t notice the time stamp on comment or article..

    3. You think Convoy is bad? I’ve got Rubber Duck stuck in my… well, it ain’t my head.

  2. In his magazine and in testimony before Congress, Parkhurst called for a sweeping deregulation of his industry, a push that culminated with the Motor Carrier Act of 1980. The new law, sponsored by Sen. Ted Kennedy (D-Mass.) and signed by President Jimmy Carter, radically reduced the ICC’s authority, eliminating entry barriers, price controls, and other policies that had protected a cartel of carriers from competition. Before 1980, independent truckers had been limited to transporting farm commodities. Under the new rules, thousands of new firms flooded into the remainder of the industry, driving down prices for manufacturers and consumers alike.

    My daddy the Commie told me dat dirigulation is bad.

    1. Along a similar line of miseducation, i’ve been thinking about monopolies/anti-capitalist sentiment a lot lately.

      Here’s what i’ve been able to come up with so far:

      School taught us that monopolies hike prices, and so monopolies are teh evil. But unions who demand wage hikes are teh good. That’s US History 101.

      So, nowadays, Corporations are teh evil, due to their global reach. That’s like a monopoly right? Sure, whatever. So, capitalism is bad, Mmmmkay?

      Naturally, the text books left out the part about how those Ancient Evil Monopolies (Standard Oil, etc) were enacted by the gov’t. No wonder everyone confuses capitalism with corporatism.

      Best Part: Monopolies are BAD. So, yeah, lets continue to have them. Montgomery County, I’m looking in your direction.

      So, yes. Your Daddy The Commie was right. In a sense.

      1. Using that model, government is the ultimate monopoly.

        But don’t tell Chad. He’ll get an upset tummy.

  3. Not long after Parkhurst founded Overdrive in 1961, he declared himself a “radical conservative,” with the emphasis on radical as much as conservative. When Hamilton tries to describe the perspective Parkhurst represented, the terms he uses include “anarcho-populist,” “anarchic libertarianism,” and “a full-fledged repudiation of all large-scale institutions.”

    Somebody needed to tell this guy that, without government, there would be no roads they could use . . . or regualtions to fight, nor Teamsters, or barriers to entry, or EPA mandates, or taxation galore, or tax-fed piggies with badges harrassing you, or . . .

    Will somebody please tell this guy that we “need” government?

  4. An article about truck-driving and not one mention of Brown?

    1. My ass is Brown.

      1. Then wipe it for cryin’ out loud.

        1. I already did – wanna see?

    2. An article about trucking and not one mention of meth?

  5. A similar fate befell the young trucking industry. After the Motor Carrier Act of 1935, drivers who wanted to start a new trucking firm “suddenly needed much more than just a truck and trailer to start in business,” Hamilton explains. “They needed to gain operating authority as well, which the ICC granted only after lengthy and expensive proceedings meant to discourage competition.”

    But we need gunvermint!

  6. Indeed, they refuse to make a set of demands, as though even that would be a victory for the system.

    Foucauldian truckers will [?] us all!

  7. It’s a shame that among the regulations those truck-driving asphalt cowboys find so onerous are speed limits and chain laws. Not to mention that pesky law of physics that says it’s probably a bad idea for a huge 18-wheeler to drive three feet behind another vehicle at 80 mph. They may not be the most dangerous drivers on the road but they’re surely the biggest and most obnoxious bullies. But perhaps I’m being uncharitable; people pumped to the gills on amphetamines don’t always make the most rational choices.

    1. It’s a shame that among the regulations those truck-driving asphalt cowboys find so onerous are speed limits and chain laws.

      Right – I mean, it is not like it is more dangerous to suffer from auto-hypnotism by driving as fast as 55 miles per hour on a straight Texas Interstate than to drive at 80 MPH and keep your wits awake – nooooo.

      1. Nice. “They have to drive like maniacs to keep from falling asleep!”

        I’m surrounded by OTR drivers all day every day. I now give them a much wider berth on the road than before I knew them. Terrifying bunch.

        1. Nice. “They have to drive like maniacs to keep from falling asleep!”

          I don’t know if driving 80 on an interstate is driving like a “maniac”, but driving alongside an 80,000 LB behemoth with a driver that’s taking too many winks is truly terrifying.

          1. Gentlemen, in addition to other businesses, I own a small, over-the-road trucking company. I support deregulation but from a philosophical perspective and long before my investment in trucks.

            From your comments, it’s obvious you have no idea what you’re talking about.

            1. Well, glad that’s settled. After all, William Walsh has spoken.

            2. William, being a libertarian means never having to know what you are talking about.

            3. William not only do they *not* know what they’re talking about—they wear their ignorance as a badge of honor. They think that government regulation begins and ends at driver safety. Personally, I feel safer driver a safe distance behind a semi that I do driving a safe distance behind a mom in her SUV.

              1. Please tell me you have a personalized plate that says “THEMAN”. I would love to teach you a little about driving safely behind my SUV.

              2. What do you mean with “They”? Being facetious is entirely different than being ignorant.

                1. and they are notoriously thin-skinned too.

    2. I wish trucks would do 80. Around here they hardly break 65. The best is when one truck tries to pass another going up a mountain doing 50. 5 minutes later he finally gets by.

      1. This. A thousand times, this.

      2. You should (not really) check out some trucker message boards. The sentiment is basically that everyone on two axles just needs to get the fuck outta their way.

    3. …the car driver was solely responsible for 70 percent of the fatal crashes, compared to 16 percent for the truck driver…

      Not to sound too out of line, but fuck you very much. But hey, why let facts get in the way of your ignorant rant.

  8. Consider the farm policies established during the New Deal. Franklin Roosevelt’s agricultural advisers fell, roughly speaking, into two competing categories. One group, representing the old agrarian anti-monopolist tradition, wanted to level the playing field for smaller operators. The others saw big business as an ally, not an enemy[…]

    I was going to say the two camps were the Jets and the Sharks, but then I read further and I realized – they ARE the Jets and the Sharks.

    I mean, for cryin’ out loud, how can it be LESS interventionist and less fatally conceited to “level the playing field” for small farms compared to being in bed with Big Business?

  9. I actually made Sally Field seem attractive by comparison. Am I still even alive?

  10. I owe my paychecks of the last 14 years to the Motor Carrier Act of 1980.

  11. Those renegade truckers served, in Hamilton’s words, as the “militant vanguard of the free-market revolution

    Lol…subsidized roads, subsidized diesel, dumping garbage all over everyone else’s property without having to compensate…..sure sounds like a free market to me!

    1. Fuck off, Chad.

      1. But remember… Chad is not an elitist, even though he’s better than everyone else he sees as inferior.

        Or so he says.

        1. True, but I’m just sick of him and his ilk. They’re just as anti-liberty as Karl Rove, and they deserve every sliver of derision they get.

          1. Wow, Chad only posted the one time. Guess he’s too busy crying over the Coakley loss.

    2. If you look at http://www.fhwa.dot.gov/enviro…..apter3.htm you will see that diesel-powered 18-wheelers account for about half the NOx emissions in many large cities, though they are outnumbered by passenger vehicles at a very high ratio. This calls for a lot of improvement, period. Many of those big cities listed have serious air pollution problems and all these big rigs make it worse. Check out the Clean Air Act of 1970 exemptions that were granted to the trucking industry. I’m just not sure how much the government really can clean the air given all the intended consequences that tend to accompany government interventions.

  12. I, too, hate truck drivers. I laugh my ass off when I see one of them upside down in the median.

    Guess what, mister truck driver- if you can’t make it over the pass at eighty, then stay the fuck in the slow lane.

  13. FYI: 80 mph does not qualify as high-speed driving.

    1. In a big truck it starts getting pretty damn dicey above about 75.

  14. I got my CDL in 1987 in Oregon. I drove long-haul as recently as Oct. 2007. The quality and respectability of drivers in those 20 years dropped dramatically IMO. I, as you are all too aware, can go on for hours on why I think that is. inanutshell: People these days in America don’t have that streak of independance that is necessary to be a OTR driver. Long hours, seven days a week, away from home for 2-4 weeks at a time all for 35-50 thousand a year average. If I could still do that I wouldn’t be on here buggin the heck outta you fine folks. I love it.

  15. People who drive trucks are soooo plebian. They’re usually uneducated rubes who don’t vote Democratic every two years, and are thus of no use other than whatever tax revenue we can squeeze out of their wallets.

    But I am NOT an elitist. I asked fer a huntin’ license when I ran for president.

    Plus, I served in Vietnam.

  16. Truck driver divorce!
    It’s very sad
    (Steel guitars Usually weep all over it)
    The bold & intelligent MASTERS OF THE ROAD,
    With their Secret Language,
    And their GIANT OVER-SIZED MECHANICAL TRANS-CONTINENTAL HOBBY-HORSE!
    Truck driver divorce!
    It’s very sad!
    Oh the wife!
    Oh the kids!
    Oh the waitress!
    Oh the drive all night!

    Sometimes when you get home,
    Some ugly lookin’ son-of-a-bitch
    Is trying’ to pooch yer HOME-TOWN SWEETHEART!

    Oh, go ride the bull!
    Oh, go ride the bull!
    Make it go up ‘n down
    ‘N when you fall off,
    You can eat the mattress!
    TRUCK DRIVER DIVORCE!
    IT’S VERY SAD!
    Bust yer ass
    To deliver some string beans,
    Deliver some string beans,
    Deliver some string beans,
    To
    UTAH!

  17. Yep, deregulation worked wonders.

    It allowed any swinging dick with a truck to get into the business, and many did. The oversupply of trucks drove down the per-mile rate of haulage to next to nothing, where it remains today.

    Independents still exist, but the bulk of trucking is controlled by a handful of mega-carriers operating those orange, yellow and blue trucks,all of whom can underbid the independent because they get bulk rates on things like fuel, tires and equipment.

    In other words we have nearly the same situation we had pre-dereg.

    Trucking costs have exploded exponentially since dereg, but the rates remain low.

    Although the ICC is gone, the DOT has more than taken up the slack from a regulatory standpoint, not to mention every yahoo with a badge and a gun who will use the law to get into the drivers wallet at every opportunity.

    The professionalism of the old drivers is gone. Most ‘drivers’ today are little more than steering wheel holders whose every move is monitored and recorded by an array of in-cab and satellite tracking.

    Many good, hardworking men and women remain in the business and are trying to do the best that they can in what is a very difficult and dangerous occupation. However there seems to be a large number of them that aren’t exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer. That’s why I gave up trucking – I grew tired of dealing with people who think wrestling is real and the space program is fake.

  18. The trucking industry is a disaster. I don’t know the solution, but having people you wouldn’t trust to get your fries driving 70-foot behemoths… ugh.

  19. Many good, hardworking men and women remain in the business and are trying to do the best that they can in what is a very difficult and dangerous occupation. However there seems to be a large number of them that aren’t exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer. That’sreplica omega why I gave up trucking – I grew tired of dealing with people who think wrestling is real and the space program is fake.

  20. This article is tea-bagger garbage. Robin Hood’s true legacy was fighting against the Norman aristocrats to help the Saxon peasants. During the 1950s in Indiana, Robin Hood was banned reading in some school districts because of right-wing bigots who thought Robin Hood was promoting socialism. Not that there is anything wrong with socialism.

  21. It is just a embarrassed which on the list of laws all those truck-driving asphalt cowboys get therefore time-consuming tend to be velocity restrictions in addition to string regulations. In addition to which pesky legislations regarding physics which states that it’s possibly a negative plan for any big 18-wheeler to be able to commute several toes guiding a further car or truck from 40 mph. They will is probably not essentially the most threatening motorists on your way nonetheless they are certainly the best and quite a few obnoxious bullies. Nonetheless certainly I am currently being uncharitable; men and women pumped into the gills about amphetamines never generally take advantage realistic decisions. Finnish Lapphund

  22. Here’s what i’ve been able to come up with so far:

    School taught us that monopolies hike prices, and so monopolies are teh evil. But unions who demand wage hikes are teh good. That’s US History 101.

    So, nowadays, Corporations are teh evil, due to their global reach. That’s like a monopoly right? Sure, whatever. So, capitalism is bad, Mmmmkay?
    ???? ????? ?????? ??????? ???? ????? ????? ???????
    Naturally, the text books left out the part about how those Ancient Evil Monopolies (Standard Oil, etc) were enacted by the gov’t. No wonder everyone confuses capitalism with corporatism.

    Best Part: Monopolies are BAD. So, yeah, lets continue to have them. Montgomery County, I’m looking in your direction.

  23. s, he rode high in the saddle, living a life of joyful independence: “It takes a special breed to be a truck driving man,”

  24. The loneliness of the cowboy’s life, the solitude and instability

  25. ndependent trucker played the role of the stoic cowboy in records, films, and news reports. In some songs and sto

Please to post comments

Comments are closed.