Who am I, anyway? I’ve been asked this question a number of times. Recently, this query has been posed by various voices in the media. In case they quote me,

I drive lots of miles. I go through sunshine and rain, desert and mountains, big cities and small country towns. Every day I observe many people bustling around involved in

When you’re a trucker out on the road, one of the most familiar sights that keeps you in the straight and narrow is the large LED road signs scattered intermittently

September 2014, I was living in Cache Valley in northern Utah, where my great-great-grandfather Joseph Smith Jessop settled after immigrating from England and walking across the Plains in his bare

The man looked like a devil. “How do you know how devils look?” I chided myself. “Well, he looks like what I imagine a devil would,” I answered myself. “Yes,

Margaritaville. What a name, and what a place I have run into all sorts of personalities in the mainstream, and I don’t mean with my semi-truck. A few years back,