Worst time of the year…

Reporting from the TN/GA border I75 heading to Muncie IN with a load of slinkies. It’s Halloween – big deal! – 45 degrees, dark and raining. Yesterday it was 85 sunny and beautiful in Clearwater FL.

Before I start this post, I just want to apologize to anyone that is offended by the photo I’m using here. I know it is risky to some to show more “behind” than most of the Fortune 500 are comfortable with or perhaps one could infer something “kinky” in the fact that the worker is blocking the number “7” with his crotch. Does the hard hat meet with corporate OSHA requirements? I hope so. He’s not wearing gloves, which might be a problem for your safety department. I’m sure that no matter how innocent I believe the picture is appropriate to the post, someone will be bothered by it. So, again, I apologize to anyone who feels uncomfortable having to look at it. Maybe using just a photo of a typical “vanilla” clock – like you would buy a Wal-Mart - would have been better.

With that behind us, tonight is the time, once again, to change the damn time, unless you are in Arizona or a few other places that have come to their senses. Fall behind and Spring forward. As November is a few hours away, before you go to sleep, set your clocks back one hour. And so begins what I consider the worst time of the year. The weather is turning colder and will only get worse with the coming of ice, snow and sub zero temperatures. The days will be shorter and we will have less daylight to drive in. There is nothing I hate more than having to find a shipper/consignee in the dark. Most of the places I go to are bad enough in the daylight that having to cope with their lack of lighted signs and roads - and dark tight spaces - makes my job miserable.

I always recall an incident that happened to me in the dark a few years ago. I was delivering to a trailer manufacturing facility. I arrived there late at night. The weather was extremely cold, with high winds and heavy rain. I slept next to the guard shack. At 4:30 AM there was a knock. “You can go in now" said the guard. I had been asleep about three hours. I was supposed to unload at 8 AM. I do what drivers do when someone knocks unexpectedly and they have to pull in somewhere to load or unload. I throw something on and jump in the left seat. The rain was coming down much worse than when I first got there.

I got out of the truck and went inside the guard shack. The guard looked about 80 years old. I asked “where do they want me?” He said, “go to the end of the gate and turn right – then go straight down till the end of the building and make another right and pull in.” Got it. I got back in the truck and started driving down to the end of the gate. There were little or no lights. Some went on and off every few minutes. The plant was not yet open.

End of the gate. Right turn. It’s dark. Water everywhere. I head straight down following the directions to the letter. The rain, believe it or not, was getting worse. The wind was really kicking up big time. I’m proceeding very slowly. I can see lights at the end of the building where I was told to make another right and pull in. This is a big place. Must be 50 or so dock doors on this side.

Slowly. Slowly. HOLY SHIT! What the? Me and the entire truck are going down fast on an angle – in WATER! OMG. I’m completely disoriented. Water is coming in the doors. A million things are racing through my mind. BRAKES! BRAKES! I almost rip out the yellow and red brake handles and I jam the brake pedal down. I’m not stopping! The water is rushing in. I’ve got 48,000 lbs. of iron forcing me down in the water. It’s like I drove straight into a lake.

I’m going to drown in freak’n Iowa. The engine is still running. The truck lights are still on. I felt like I was on the Titanic. I don’t know why, but I rolled down the window. The water was 1/2 up the door. But I’m at an angle. The nose of the truck is almost completely submerged. I stop! I say to myself, I’ve got to get the hell out of the truck. I force the door open, water rushes in and I get out and manage to get on the step. Then like a moron I decide to climb down off the step and I go underwater. Freezing water.

Now I am completed submerged. It is dark, frigid and I’m completely clothed and trying not to drown. All I can remember is the truck lights on the engine still running. I swim to my right and then back toward the trailer. There seems to be no bottom. I grab hold of the trailer and worm my way up toward the rear. Finally I feel something under my feet. It is very soft and sandy. I’m afraid to put my feet down. I keep working my way along the trailer. The surface under my feet is getting harder. I’m finally out of the water.

I’m sitting on the ground wet and freezing. I’m looking at the truck. What am I supposed to do now? Turn off the engine? What if it doesn’t start again. What about the lights? I go back in the water

and swim toward the cab. I reach up and shut off the engine. I can’t reach the lights. I get back on land and try to find help.

As you can imagine, there’s a hell of a lot more to this story. But, every year when the time changes I think of this incident. And my only thought is that I can’t wait until Spring forward, when, to me, everything is “normal” again.

Technorati Tags: trucking,truck drivers,time change,truck sinking in icy water

Building links...

I'm working on establishing a link between Blogger, Twitter and Facebook for acourtesyflush. The "tweet this" prompt came up at the end of this post where I want it, but mysteriously disappeared. Blogger could, of course, make this entire process easier but doesn't. I've been told to move over to Wordpress, but I'm not crazy about those folks either. If you are a blogger, you know that making changes is NEVER simple. HTML reminds me of DOS. Let's get real. Blogger is a year or more behind in making their "service" easier to use. It's always been that way. I'm tired of having to Google a "how do you do this" and the result is some 12 year old sitting in his garage somewhere in India telling me to find this code and then insert a paragraph of yet more code. It's all BS. Speaking of BS, it's now 6-0 Phillies against the Yankees in NY.

To hell in a hand basket….

Reporting from Clearwater FL, publishing unencumbered from censors, free to bring you the truth. Today, let’s focus in on New York, where, according to Transport Topics, Gov. David Paterson, a Democrat, has proposed requiring truck drivers there to use only GPS devices that are equipped with truck route information to keep them off restricted roads.

“In a quest for faster routes, truckers are using automobile GPS devices that do not have truck routes”, Paterson said. He is an idiot. I’m sure he can afford the $499 truck stops are charging for truck route specific GPS units. He says in a press statement “Today, we put an end to bridge strikes by preventing truck drivers from illegally straying onto parkways and other restricted roads.

The “governor” said there have been 46 bridge strikes this year just in Westchester County, north of New York City. The bill doesn’t require truckers to use GPS units, merely that if they do, the devices should be specifically for trucks. It also would direct the state Department of Transportation to create an approved list of GPS devices truck drivers could use while traveling New York roads. Drivers who use non-approved devices would be fined up to $500, imprisoned for as many as 15 days and have their trucks impounded.

Transport Topics goes on to report that Clayton Boyce, spokesman for American Trucking Association, said it was unclear if — or how — ATA member firms would be affected if the Paterson proposal became law. Boyce says most trucking companies already use GPS services specifically designed for trucks so they are routed away from restricted roads and around low-clearance dangers. Boyce doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He likes to shoot from the hip, clearly not having all the facts. What does "most" trucking companies mean? I work for a "major"carrier and we don't have truck specific GPS units. "Most" GPS in trucks are purchased by the driver at their own expense. Let's never forget, the ATA represents management, not the driver. They're the reason we're not allowed to have a radar detector in our trucks. And trust me, if this ridiculous law passes, the ATA will make sure the driver will have to pay to comply

Technorati Tags: Clayton Boyce,ATA,American Trucking Association,OOIDA,Transport Topics,Trucking,GPS,New York DOT

You can read the entire article at: http://www.ttnews.com/articles/basetemplate.aspx?storyid=23056

Zip pe de do da – zip ditty day…

plenty of sunshine -  my oh my what a wonderful day! I have to tell you that as an over the road truck driver, I pride myself on knowing where I am at all times. Even before I had a GPS, I always had the right maps and exit guides to enable me to determine where I was. Sure, I have gotten lost now then, but never for long and only for a few minutes.

My uncle used to tell me this funny story about how he pulled off at an exit to use the rest room and get some coffee – he was exhausted and really should have just closed his eves and taken a nap – then got back in his car and drove two hours in the wrong direction. This was a long time ago down South in Florida where there were nowhere near as many signs as their as now. I too, have done similar, but realized my mistake quickly and turned around.

Well, this past week, two Northwest airlines pilot missed their destination airport and continued flying 150 miles before re-establishing contact with authorities and finally turning the aircraft around. According to The New York Times, “Four fighter jets were put on alert. Air traffic control centers from Denver to Minneapolis tried numerous times to reach the pilots by radio, E-mail, data text and cell phone, with one center trying to reach the pilot 13 times. Even the White House was alerted to the wayward Airbus A320. Finally, a flight attendant was able to contact the pilots, and they turned the plane around and landed it safely.”

The pilot and co-pilot told air traffic controllers they were in a heated discussion over airline policy and lost track of where they were. Aviation analysts, puzzled by the unusually long gap, wondered whether the pilots could have been sleeping. But the pilot denied that, and made comments that added to the confusion. He said: “It was not a serious event from a safety standpoint.”

The Times reports: “the two pilots have been suspended by Delta Air Lines, which merged with Northwest last year and operates its flights. The pilots, flying from San Diego to Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport with 144 passengers and three flight attendants on board, stopped communicating with air traffic controllers at some point east of Denver. The two did not even attempt a descent as the plane cruised above Minneapolis-St. Paul and instead continued 110 miles past the airport to Eau Claire, WI.

Follow this link for more details on the story: "http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/10/24/airliner.fly.by/index.html

Censorship…

I won’t tolerate it. Neither should you. During the 2nd World War, soldiers and their wives or girlfriends would exchange letters. Military censors would black out any graphic language about sex. If you were an Italian or Polish American writing back to your family, let’s say in NY, because the censors couldn’t understand them, the letters were confiscated.

According to the Military Postal History Society: “One of our researchers recently found over 500 confiscated and condemned letters at the National Archives in College Park, Maryland. They included letters that used graphic language dealing with sex. He also found that in some cases the same writer would keep having his letters confiscated and apparently didn't get the message. These letters were never delivered and apparently the sender was never sent a notice of the offense. The US censor staff count rose to 14,462 by February 1943 in the stations they opened throughout the United States.

Today, driving back from Naples FL, I was listing to Michele Obama speaking - she said that not that long when women would meet to discuss breast cancer issues, they couldn’t use the word “breast.” They would have to call it a “Women’s Cancer Program.” A Saudi court sentenced a female journalist to 60 lashes who had been charged with involvement in a TV show in which a Saudi man publicly talked about sex. Watch the Sopranos on television words like “shit, fuck, etc. are cut-out, although you can clearly comprehend what they are saying. It is a farce.

Bloggers are not well liked in America. It is because we are unfiltered. In my business, trucking, which is tight-assed and “proper” ruled by “don’t rock the boat” over paid bureaucrats and worse, reported on by a media that makes it priority advertising dollars and not the truth – the result is a industry of fools – stuck in time where lack of innovation and change prevails. It is pathetic.

If you want bullshit, there are many other places you can go on the internet to read it. There are loads of sites where censorship rules. Oooo, you can’t use this photo because it is too provocative. Ooo, don’t use that kind of language. Disgustingly politically correct. The “client” won’t like it. It might offend. Reading many of the other “trucking” blogs, makes me want to throw up. Mr. and Mrs. trucker travel the interstates. What a bunch of crap. Talk about how the trucker is screwed and get’s paid crap – never. OOIDA won’t touch the subject, because they’re good at writing nice prim and proper letters, never tackling the real problems the driver.

I’ve done my time as a corporate sellout. I kissed enough boss ass for three lifetimes. I started this blog because I needed a vehicle to express the truth. It was never going to happen, my writing for the rags that are offered for free at truck stops everywhere. And I’ll be damned if anyone is going to what to tell me what to write, how to write it, what photos or pictures I can or can’t use because they’re more concerned about what the Fortune 1000 wants than the truth.

Photo credit: http://www.robertamsterdam.com/censorship2.jpeg

Technorati Tags: censorship,trucking,blogging

So near and yet so far…

Reporting from the Miccosukee service plaza on Alligator Alley, which runs back and forth from Naples to Ft Lauderdale FL. I just passed on a offer from a oversized yacht hauler and his cougar escort companion to engage in a three-some. It must be the fact that I cleaned up earlier – clean black pleated shorts and new white sneakers – to meet the wife. I do admit I kinda looked spiffy. But I don’t do that kind of thing, especially with someone whose truck is ancient compared to mine. And, after 30 years of marriage, I don’t intend to be unfaithful now, tomorrow or ever. But as large as I am, I was flattered to be asked.

So did you actually think I’d be posting from home, specifically my favorite chair in my living room. Oh, you silly person. I made my last drop in Naples about 2ish and was crus’n home on I75 – XM 71 watercolors – jazz on the radio. I was thinking about the bourbon chicken my wife usually gets us my first night home. I also have three movies waiting from Netflix. I just mailed in the remainder of my paperwork and logs via TripPak at the miserable Pilot in Ft. Meyers. Ever been there? It is the worst Pilot in their system – you’ve got to experience the parking lot to believe it. Anyway, my Blackberry was blinking. There was a message from my dispatcher: “Stop!” She likes to play games and I thought it was a joke. I was 50 or so miles from Naples.

It was no joke. Seems stop #3 back in Riviera Beach had material that the place in Naples needs and visa versa. Frankly, what do I care. According to all the paperwork, everybody got what they ordered and signed for it. As I said the bills were already in the TripPak box. Let me just say here that I have LTL – less than truckload – freight. I did the whole route – LTL thing years ago and I thought I had graduated to TL – truck load – freight. But there’s the whole economy thing again and my carrier is accepting more and more LTL multi-stop loads. And despite it being almost 2010 – we still can seem to find Bin Laden NOR properly label freight to see that it gets to where it has to go. Oh, this shipper tried – with little red dots no less – stop one gets 1 red dot, stop two gets 2 and so forth and so on. But as they say the best laid plans to mice and men…well, seems someone put to few dots on stuff that should have been more “dotted.”

So I responded back saying: “Roadway.” Both of them call up some LTL carrier to pick up the stuff and they’ll deliver the right stuff to the right places overnight. Well, you would think I asked them to send the stuff by rail! Noooo, they need ME to unscrew up the screwy mess up. Forget the fact that after 36 days (see last post) I’m headed home to my sweetie and the bourbon chicken and the three Netflix movies. Why, what does my life matter. While waiting under an I-75 underpass wondering how the heck the thing stay up – I thought this entire situation over. This would be the second time in three weeks I thought about sending in an application to Indian River Transport, a juice tanker operation. But then with my luck, I’d be stuck in a similar situation: “Marshall, you idiot – Publix got the pineapple and H.E.B. got the orange juice. I don’t care if you headed home, go back and suck out the orange and exchange it with the pineapple.”

So I turned the truck around and started heading – de ja vu all over again – back to Naples. The Mrs.., an experienced trucker wife, said: “Well, tomorrow when we get home we’ll have Chinese and watch the movies. It’'ll be Friday and both of us won’t have to go back to work in the morning.” What a gal! Worth more than any damn threesome, let me tell ya. Fast forward, I got the Naples stuff and started to head back East over the alley. I needed a break and some dinner, so I stopped at the Miccosukee service plaza for the $4.59 chicken dinner, some low fat banana milk and a cookie. I got two slices of za for breakfast. If I can get my oh-so tired body out of bed in the AM, I bed back at Riviera Beach around 9ish, to get the stuff that has to go back over to Naples. Tomorrow it’ll be 37 days on the road. I just hope they’ll pay for me for the extra 360 extra miles I had to drive to straighten this messy mess up. I’ll let ya know.

36 Days On The Road…

Reporting this evening from the Ft. Pierce service plaza on the FL Turnpike. I had two drops today and tomorrow AM I have another in Riviera Beach and a final out in Naples – and then home. It 80 degrees and the mosquitoes are hovering around me. Unfortunately I do not have a can of insect repellant. I didn’t think to pick one up last week in Colorado when it was 16 degrees and snowing. It’s good to be in shorts and I think tonight I’ll leave the APU set to air conditioning.

On Howard Stern today, he interviewed Clarence Clemons aka “The Big Man” of the E-Street Band. Can you believe his boss, Bruce Springsteen is 60 years old! Wow. Anyhoo, Clemons not too long ago had a pacemaker “installed” and replaced both his knees. To perform on stage, stipulated in his contract, he has someone backstage assist him put on a brace for his back as well as both knees. He is given Botox injections to reduce the swelling in his back and cortisone injections for his knees. Before the pacemaker operation he would smoke a joint to relieve the intense pain. He no longer smokes weed and does not drink alcohol. But that’s what he needs to be able to play the sax on stage when he tours around the world.

So with that in mind, look at the picture I took of these stairs. That was taken at the T/A in Carterville GA. After 36 days on the road, I am beat up. Every part of me hurts. I need quiet and to wake up anywhere but in “the” truck. I stopped taking my knee pain medicine about a week ago. It has made no difference. I actually “less worse.” Perhaps the rest of me hurts so bad, my knee pain has decided to take some time off. I do know that I’ve gained about five pounds, as I’ve gone back to eating more later, but call me crazy, but the added weight seems to have lessened the knee pain. So, unlike Clemons, without marijuana, Botox, cortisone or braces, I got up those stairs just fine. Never mind that I barely made it across the parking lot back to the truck – I got up those stairs. I might add that 99% of the drivers going to or coming from the main T/A building went out of the their way to avoid the steps and walked further down and then up the gentle incline up/down to the “2nd floor” parking lot.

Something else Clemons told Stern. He was driving a Buick and due to a mechanical failure, hit a tree. He claims he died. We’ve got to read his new book for the details. But, also says he had an out of body experience, which he claims was magical and incredibly calming. He experienced no worries, no pain – just joy. A man (God? – angel?) said to him to keep coming – as he drew closer there even more intense positive feelings – but Clemons said he had to stop. He could not continue. He felt he just had to come back. He had things he had to do. He just needed to finish things. Clemons said he felt a hand on his brain. He opened his eyes and he was alive in the hospital.

10,000 Pangs of Self-Doubt...

Well I imagine it's good to see that the market today hit 10,000 and JP Morgan/Chase reported high quarterly profits. The world goes on. The question is whether you're a part of it or not. I've been here in Clovis, NM since Sunday, sitting, doing nothing. And the world goes on. And I'm definitely not part of it. And for reasons I cannot explain, the one emotion that is hanging over me like a stalled storm cloud, is self-doubt. There is a pill you can take for depression, and that basically makes you sleep more, which over time lessens the pain of being depressed, but I don't know of a pill for self-doubt.

One thing I am always tired of hearing is that "your depressed? - why you have no reason to be depressed. You have this and that and bla bla bla. The one thing that makes a depressed person more depressed is hearing from anybody else that they don't have anything to be depressed about. Self-doubt is a bit more complicated. I'm just not sure where the emotion comes from. Depression is a surely a chemical thing - an imbalance - but self-doubt I'm not so sure about.

I have definitely lost the wind in my sails. I believe like my addiction to food, I have an addiction to what I perceive as success. And that need is definitely NOT being satisfied right now. It is hard to feel good when you not moving forward -literally.

I believe that self-doubt is the evil sister of depression. The two combined will rapidly overwhelm you despite how bright and sunny the skies might be. Self-doubt can cause you to make bad - desperate -decisions. It's kind of like being unemployed but you're not. Everything in your world becomes irrelevent, second-rate and worst unimportant.