When I lived in New York a few years ago,
I worked as a P.A. on a documentary about the "real rocky".
He was a beaten up old boxer who hated Stallone.
He lived somewhere in New Jersey.
Every morning before dawn, I would take the subway to Canal St. and pick up a cube truck.
I'd have to drive under the Hudson River, through the narrow Holland Tunnel to get to New Jersey.
After a long day of driving from location to location, I stopped at a truck stop for a bite to eat
That's where I took this photo.
I think it really summed up the way I felt.
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