My Review of The Long Haul and Shattered
“If there’s such a thing as the American Heartland, it has a stake through it.” rants Finn Murphy in his trucking memoir The Long Haul.
Have you ever driven on I-95 through South Carolina — its 199 miles of scrub, swamp, and South of the Border signs. Finn points this out and then proceeds to warn you not to go off the highway or you will be taken to a place more backwards than South Africa. This spring I did just that — I went off the main highway to a small town buffet. For $8, I eavesdropped on the local banter while I ate my all-you-can-eat fried chicken and coffee next the local potbellied Sheriff. I can verify the backward ways of the South Carolina backcountry. I find myself agreeing with Finn.
Finn’s not the average cowboy boot, Peterbuilt-belt-buckle, big hat wearing trucker. He states that from the start. He’s a mover — he moves corporate execs across the country. He’s just as much in the customer service business as in the trucking business. And as an owner-operator, he’s actually in the trucking business instead of “sharecropping” for the major haulers.
Finn grew up right outside New York City in Fairfield County, CT. He worked summers as a mover while attending Colby College. He decided to dropout after his junior year. He’s not like other truckers, he chose this life. During my junior year, I felt like dropping the college life and its increasingly diminishing career prospects for a blue-collar job, but I didn’t have Finn’s drive.
Every job has drawbacks; some people call it a shit-sandwich. The sandwich isn’t the difficult part of the job, like moving a grand piano into a house or driving from Connecticut to New Mexico in two days, rather it’s the part of the job where someone disrespects you and makes your job hell. For Finn it’s the shipper, the person who is moving. They are the customer, often not paying for the move, often in a bad mind state because they are moving across the country. They can be pensive about the move, the new job, the impact on their family, or over protective and uncomfortable with someone handling all their stuff. Finn understands and accepts. You, too, come across someone in your job who can make your life hell — accept and transcend.
Every job has its economics, which are usually depressing. For Finn, it’s the control the dispatchers have over him and the regulations that hurt small owner-operates for the benefit of big business. And there are the variables. For truckers it’s — traffic, weather, and other drivers. What sandwich you are willing to eat?
It’s too late now. The game’s been won by companies who don’t give two shits about community character or decent jobs. Congratufuckinglations, America!,
The political events of 2016 confounded enfranchised Americans. Disenfranchised anger manifested itself in the stubborn popularity of Sanders and shocking success of Trump. The enfranchised needed to search for meaning. The Electoral College taught them that they were out of touch with their fellow Americans in the middle. They thought blue-collar memoirs about life in between the coasts might bridge the gap.
So The Long Haul takes on a political meaning in an America where everything is politicized. A reader looking for another Hillbilly Elegy, will be disappointed and pleased. Disappointed because Finn doesn’t elegize the different forms of the agrarian myth perpetuated by tourism boards and grandstanding politicians. He smashes the perception of the steel horse driving trucker and then takes on the white steepled New England church, the Midwest family farm, the western ranch, and the Georgia peach fields. He echoes Obama’s infamous ‘they cling to their god or guns or antipathy to people who aren’t like them”. A correct assessment in 2008 that has not changed in 2017. The reader should be pleased with Finn’s candor.
Those searching for meaning in the 2016 election results should read Shattered by Jonathan Allen and Amie Parnes. Uninspiring campaign speeches like HRC’s kickoff on Roosevelt Island and DNC acceptance speech serve as a microcosm of the flaws in her campaign. Reaching for that headliner or sound bite perpetuated a phonyness. People get vision, but not policy details. Too many layers of consultants and fiefdoms is exactly what kills big government and big business.
Clinton’s manager, Robby Mook, over-emphasized data. HRC took a beating because Bernie hung in the primary all the way to the convention. The data was right: the laser focus on super-delegates gave Clinton an insurmountable advantage as early as March 15. The data missed the story: Bernie scored media victories every time he won a state and at every packed rally. The data was against ground games. The data was against spending money. The data backed the irony — no other candidate raised as much money or was so tightfisted with it. You can’t take the money with you, but Presidents live on forever. HRC’s inability to see the forest for the trees is a recurring theme.
The 2016 lesson should be — run a candidate with a clear vision, who connects to voters, and who has a pitch besides “I’m not Trump”. Don’t fly by data alone. Unexpected voter turnout kills the predictive data models. As Nat Silver concludes in The Signal and The Noise, the best in any game use a hybrid quantitative and qualitative approach. And Silver predicted the Trump victory.
So don’t read The Long Haul for insights on Trump voters or how the Democrats can take back the swamp. Read it because it’s personable and enjoyable. Read it because it shares wisdom about life on the road and life in general. Read it because that’s the magic of reading — you can go anywhere and everywhere in good book.
Thanks for reading!
Here are my three latest reviews:
Yelling Ethics in the Boadroom — my review of Pre-Suasion
Inside the LIBOR scandal — My review of the Spider Network
Re-trying the FBI’s failed case against SAC — My review of Black Edge
