Saturday, September 12, 2009

9/12/09

Such a promising start to the day. My aunt and uncle from Georgia happened to be in D.C. for the rally, so my brothers and I met them by the war memorials and we all walked across town together. Then, after the shindig started winding down, we went back over past the White House to kick back and watch football.

I really do hate football. Oh well, at least we found a bar where we got all the beer we could drink for $15. And drink we did. Plenty to ease the pain of the fourth quarter, I can assure you. My youngest brother doesn't seem to remember the trip back to the hotel. Oy.

Friday, September 11, 2009

9/11/09

A tale of three brothers...

The oldest brother is what many of you might call a standard reactionary hatemonger. He became convinced at a very early age that special interests were running the country and that the people who complain the most loudly about special interests are usually the biggest hypocrites. Everyone loves special interests as long as their own interests are the ones considered special, after all. The first special interest to draw this young man into politics was our beloved National Education Association. At age 7, this particular boy was given an assignment to write a paragraph about a topic in the current newspaper. He composed his sentences effectively, organized his information in the recommended inverted pyramid, and employed accurate spelling and punctuation. He got a bad grade on the paper anyway. Why? Well, it turns out that the teacher didn't have much use for seven year olds who spoke forcefully against abortion. And thus the die was cast...

The young man continued to learn and read throughout the years, refining his views on some topics and becoming an intransigent pain in the ass with respect to other topics. He concluded somewhere along the way that the old saying is completely true - Those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it. I would posit that we've most certainly failed to learn from history, even though it's right there for us to read. For this reason, our oldest brother now finds himself to be a cynical prick.

The second brother became interested in matters of politics much more recently. Growing up in Southeast Michigan and the son of a proud union Democrat, he was inclined to embrace a more collectivist viewpoint than that of his older brother. He supported the (unsuccessful) effort of a Massachusetts senator to unseat President Bush in 2004. He also read a book by a senator from Illinois, not long afterward. Audacity of something or other, it seems... This brother was rather impressed with the author's story and so began to learn more about the subject of politics in general. He read and listened and spoke and then read and listened and spoke some more. By November of 2008, he was fully engaged in the political process and campaigning actively... for Senator John McCain of Arizona. The apparent immorality of passing on ever-growing debts to future generations in order to buy votes today was simply too much for him to stomach. Unlike the older brother, this one hasn't yet concluded that the world has become collectively complacent and uninformed. He still possesses that optimistic quality that many of us once had.

The third brother in our little story was the last to arrive in this world and also the last to arrive in the political discussion. After high school, he bounced around between a few menial jobs before accepting an apprenticeship with his father's trade union. As a proud union member, he also tended to follow the marching orders typical for a good Michigan Democrat. Earlier this year, he was laid off from his job for several months. With lots of free time and very little money, he spent his days watching the dueling propaganda between Fox News and MSNBC. He also started to ask some questions of those around him in an effort to cut through the BS.

When the issue of cap and trade legislation came up this year, a situation took place that surprises me at least a little. This youngest brother was given an excused absence by his employer to attend a protest rally. That part is not terribly surprising, in and of itself. He does work at an evil oil refinery, after all. The surprising part, at least as I see it, was that his union seemed to offer quiet support for the protest. A tacit admission that the Midwest is squarely in the cross hairs this time around, one might conclude. And now this youngest brother is wholly convinced that his federal government shouldn't be destroying jobs in Michigan, where jobs are not exactly plentiful in the first place.

Three brothers, three different outlooks, and three different paths to get there. Three brothers now getting in a car and heading out to save the republic... or something. See you in D.C.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

9/10/09

Pending any voting that takes place between now and the weekend, it looks like a big Happy Birthday is in order for the long deceased Rin Tin Tin, who would have been 91 today. If the voting holds up, the famous canine will become the official birthday buddy of the Fenian Godfather. Thrilling, really.

If you're planning a cookout and you need to know where to begin, here's your best bet. Pay no attention to that price tag though. If you keep an eye on things, as I sometimes do, you'll be able to grab the whole package for a little over a hundred bucks. In related news, I'm still a fat bastard. Holy smokes, dude. Between the plentiful food and the more plentiful beer and such, I'm feeling far more than gluttonous... and I think I like it.

Probably time for bed now. Long day tomorrow.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

9/09/09

Three and a half hours is probably par for the course at the Secretary of State's office these days. Freaking ridiculous. Then an asinine argument followed, regarding what I said or didn't say I wanted to renew. She was trying to charge me $65. I said $60 was the right price. Yeah, I won the argument. So now I remain a licensed driver and I still may manage to wind up in a town near you some day.

A buddy of mine suggested that we hit Drinks Saloon for dollar beers and to watch the Tigers, so I was forced to miss the president's (riveting, I'm sure) 75th speech of the year. The Tigers lost again though. Probably what I get for snubbing The One™. Oh well. I think I'm gonna be on the move for the next few days, so at least Holder and the gang will have a tough time rounding me up and getting my mind right.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

9/8/09

Your don has had a beer (or twelve) and his Tigers blew a lead in the late innings tonight, so you'll be expected to forgive a rather short and uninsightful update to this here web log. I don't make the rules. We'll all just have to live with them.

It looked, rather briefly, as if I might make a few extra bucks before rolling into the Corleone family's main compound today. I received a planned load summary and load assignment this morning. So, good little soldier that I am, I rolled out of bed and checked my satellite unit. Picking up in [some town south of Columbus] and delivering in Taylor. Apologies for the spotty memory, of course. I was half asleep then and I'm, well, you know, half asleep now... or something. I wasn't quite sure how I would fit the run into my available hours, but I was gonna give it a shot. Then... what the Joplin gang giveth, the Joplin gang taketh away. Load unassigned. Go back to bed, slacker.

After a couple more hours I received the previously expected deadhead to the Taylor terminal. Day #8, 222 paid miles, fair enough. Homeward we go. I found along the way that, for some unknown reason, I was in absolutely no hurry to get home. It most certainly seemed like some time off was long overdue, but I found myself taking a break every now and then and generally dragging out the process. Eventually though, on to the yard and on to the fridge. My roomie was kind enough to see to it that the beer supply was ample. I was gracious enough to see to it that the beer supply was exhausted. Beauty.

Tomorrow... I don't know. I guess I should probably renew my driver's license. You know, I'm a professional driver and whatnot.

Monday, September 7, 2009

9/7/09

The 14 hour rule is mainly a tool of the Illuminati to destroy the will of truck drivers to fight the New World Order... or something. Occasionally though, it may come in handy. I'm hoping that tonight is one of those occasions.

After hanging around Beaverdam and listening to the rain drops all day, I headed back out on US-30 across Ohio. I left a little early and allowed time for a couple of breaks along the arduous 150 mile route. Once I arrived at my consignee, I found a locked gate and a sign saying that they opened at 1am. Okay then, I sort of expected that. Time to kick back and peruse the interwebs for a while.

Some time after 11pm, the gate opened and a fella directed me to a dock. Blindside backing around the corner of a building in the dark isn't very high on my list of things to do after such a lazy weekend, but I got 'er in there without any major issues. Two guys with alternating forklifts had me empty in short order and I was on my way. I headed to the local truck stop, caught up my log book, and took stock of the situation.

It occurred to me before I logged on to check my board status that I couldn't say for sure whether or not my home time request had been processed last weekend. When we log on to the web portal and check our board status, there is a letter 'X' that indicates requested home time if we're on the ready board. I had gone from one pre-planned load to the next and never really been on the board since sending my request though. There was a possibility that this run to Ohio simply came as a coincidence and not as an effort to move me toward home.

If you dig into the minutae of our company guidelines, we're not really supposed to request home time when we're pre-planned for another load. I was pre-planned for one to Salt Lake City by the time I arrived in Colorado (where I sent in the request). But we're also not allowed to request home time before we get within 25 miles of our delivery point. I really don't see any way around it from the driver's perspective. How do I know when a pre-plan is or isn't coming? If I can't send the request when I'm pre-planned and I also can't send it until I'm at (or near) my consignee, then there conceivably could be a period of several days during which I was SOL. I've sent them while I was pre-planned in the past and never had any issues though. This time, no issues either. I'm #1 on the board and my 'X' is there. Beauty.

So we get to the 14 hour rule. I'm not much in the mood to drive through the night and get home before dawn tomorrow. As long as it takes the fine folks in Joplin at least another hour or so to move me, I won't be able to make it home within today's hours and they'll have to factor in a 10 hour break along the way. Since my license doesn't expire until Thursday, I wouldn't even be terribly heartbroken about grabbing one more run along the way. Seven days is what it is though, and I sent my request on the evening of the 31st. Technically speaking, I think they're running out of time. Guess I'll try to sleep for a bit and we'll see how it all plays out.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

9/6/09

We always enjoy a good hypothetical here at Tales from the Road, don't we? Let's suppose that you have a Swedish buddy named Sjoe who shows up in these stories every now and then (for some unknown reason). Maybe Sjoe has a friend who lives in Lima, Ohio. Setting aside the odd geographical implications of staying in Peru last night and visiting with a friend from Lima tonight... Sjoe's friend in Lima was taking her daughter to a birthday party near the truck stop in Beaverdam. Always the facilitator, you decide to spend the night in Beaverdam so that Sjoe can visit with his friend. They go out for dinner and, since the birthday party isn't over yet, stop for a couple of drinks. Sjoe happens to notice that the bartender is smoking hot and somewhat flirtatious. Given that there is nothing of a romantic nature between Sjoe and his friend from Lima, what is the proper etiquette concerning the smoking hot bartender? Ignore the fact that he's there with a lady friend or keep his mouth shut and behave himself?

Yeah, I'm at the truck stop in Beaverdam and the bartender is wherever she is. Not sure how you're supposed to play that one, but apparently Sjoe wasn't in the mood to test the waters. Such a wimp, or a gentleman, or something.

The trip from Peru to Beaverdam was a little over 300 miles, meaning that I've only left 150 miles to the consignee. I'm due in New Philadelphia at 1am on Tuesday, so... guess I'm hanging here for a while.
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