In my younger years, I was a route driver. It made little difference what I was carrying, the operative word was driver. I enjoyed being behind the wheel and out on my own — it was a sense of freedom while bringing home a paycheck, as small as it was. Someone else was footing the gas bill, and I got to roll the windows down and listen to the radio, if the vehicle was equipped with one.

My first gig during a summer college break was delivering flowers for a florist in Brookline, Mass.

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