Jason S. Harry

Pennsylvania is in the process of rebuilding its service plazas along the turnpike. I am a man who drinks too much coffee, or sometimes needs a place to stay overnight when traveling along with my office-on-wheels. I have paid many visits to the ones that have been revitalized, and they are very nice.   The old plazas were completely demolished, and the new ones built from the ground up, so that would be expected. It’s been a slow process. One goes down, and it takes several months until it opens again. When the project is completed, the workers move on to their next victim. All of this has been bearable until the closing of the Midway South Service Plaza located near Bedford. Once that was shut down, and signs posted that it was closed for reconstruction, I was sad for two reasons. The first was because it has a Sbarro’s Pizza restaurant that surely won’t be back when the new plaza opens. Second, I love the old stone building that housed the amenities that were located...

I never really noticed how much people like to hurry until I became a truck driver. It’s also of interest to me how the road can level the playing field. We are all one people with a common goal: Trying to get somewhere. Sans the different the classes of automobiles, we are all just little people going about our business. It was soon after I began holding the wheel of an eighteen-wheeler that I gave up the nonsense that is defined as the rush. Paying attention to the beautiful things and the people I interact with holds more importance with me than sticking to a schedule. Amazingly enough, I always seem to arrive at my destination. There were many destinations in my travels this past week, thirty-three to be exact. In a weird twist of fate, I began the week by delivering to one of my favorite stores on Monday, and saw them again on Friday. It’s a rarity to see the same account twice in one week. Actually, it wasn’t a store. It was a warehouse for Laskey’s furniture in Farrell,...

I am a professional driver. (I know, “Way to state the obvious Jason.”) I don’t expect everyone that I share the road with to be one also. That is what makes me and other professionals, well, a professional. We know how to act and are prepared for the actions of others. Automobiles are often the worst offenders, but not to the extent some may think. We tend to remember the bad ones more. Unfortunately, I also observe a fair amount of tractor-trailers and buses exhibiting less than professional behavior.  Almost daily, I see trucks doing outrageous things. Tailgating irks me the most, probably because it is so dangerous and intimidating. There have been numerous occasions where I have written down company names and equipment numbers with firm intentions to send the offender's employers a note.   The last time that happened was a few weeks ago. I was heading south on interstate 83 in Pennsylvania, heading to Maryland. A red truck, whose company name escapes me...

Wow. I haven’t written anything here in quite some time. I suppose it’s time to write something, anything, to keep this poor blog alive. I have, however, done some writing on my other blog. I posted a piece there a few weeks ago titled, “ Bar Stories: Learning how to write fiction .” If you didn’t read it, and you’re bored out of your mind right now, I urge you to give it a read. It’s a story about people, including a girl named Amanda, who I find to be rather pretty. Many folks that read it told me they liked it, except for two people: My wife and Amanda. For the record, that story was the first one I ran past my wife before publishing it. She wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of me talking up a girl who isn’t her, but after a long discussion, she let me go with it. Apparently, she thought I could use my imagination to make somebody up, but my mind doesn’t work like that. I need people to inspire me, give me ideas from the curiousness that they cause me. As for Miss Amanda, I sent ...