Eight years as a long haul trucker. I've hauled everything from perfume to dirt. I've transported peanut butter, all terrain vehicles, beer, pillows, clothing, engines, tires, appliances, enough toilet paper and paper towels to clean up a major hazamt spill, and even Jeff Gordon's race car. Nothing, however, could quite prepare me for today's last minute assignment. As I write, a major department store on the outskirts of Chicago is closing down. "Just in time for the holidays?" I asked the clerk. With an ironic smile she said, "Yep, nothing like finding out you'll be out of a job by Christmas." My job today is to carry the contents of their store away.
Folks, we have to get these clowns out of the White House. People out here are suffering. Families are hurting. And we have a chief executive who pauses between lavish vacations just long enough to punish and demonize nameless and faceless corporations. Well, I just met real people who suffer the real consequences of class warfare. Of all the loads I've hauled over the last few years, this one is the saddest.