1/23/10

Whether we're discussing Olympic gymnastics or Bo Derek in her prime, the number 10 is often used to denote perfection. Oh, it's far from perfect, let me tell you. As I slept last night, my truck's battery rundown thing started beeping at me. It tends to do that because, for some reason, my truck's batteries don't last through a cold night very well. Normally this would be when I fire up the engine and let it run for a while. Since I was in New York, where idling is illegal, I just ignored the beeping. It stopped after a minute or two and the electricity, including that which keeps the bunk heater running, was turned off. Screw it, I thought. I could bundle up in my sleeping bag for a while.

Yeah, it was really, really cold by the next time I opened my eyes. This is the point where New York and the rest of these hippie-loving states can kiss my white butt. There's absolutely no rational reason that I can't run my truck to stay warm. I reached forward and cranked up the engine. Screw 'em. As I turned the heater knob to full-tilt red, I looked at the temperature readout above the steering column. Ten degrees. Not perfect.

Knowing what I told you yesterday about the wandering crack in my windshield, I cringed at the thought of what a 30° overnight drop in temperature was going to mean. Yeah, nothing good. Now, in addition to yesterday's damage, there's yet another branch veering off to the right side of the windshield. Son of a.

Once I warmed up a little, had some breakfast, and got rolling, the drive was a pretty easy one. Weekend traffic through Buffalo and Cleveland was no issue. The sky was sunny. Everything was groovy. Given what I knew about my windshield, and given what I thought it would mean in terms of my annual inspection, I decided to have the inspection done at the Petro outside Toledo. I drove past a few other T/A and Petro locations in order to do so, but there was a method to the madness. I didn't think it likely, but there was an outside chance that I would be told to relay my load and go to a dealership for a new window. With tomorrow being Sunday, this would mean a full day of sitting and waiting for the dealership to open. If this unlikely scenario were to unfold, I would much rather be close to home than somewhere in New York. Money was also a consideration. If I did have to relay the load, it would be better to give up the last couple hundred miles of the trip than to give up the last five hundred miles.

The guy at the Petro walked out, saw the window, and said that there was no reason to bother with the inspection. Bummer. Guess we'll be seeing a dealership in the very near future.

I also asked him to see if he could deal with a bad turn signal that I had. The left front one had burned out and, after I tried a new bulb with no luck, I concluded that the issue must be the wiring harness. Yeah, I know, I'm a regular engineer here. Mr. Goodwrench got it to work as a blinker but not as a marker light, so I guess he made some improvement in the situation. He did agree that the wiring harness was bad though. One more thing to handle at a Kenworth dealer. Somehow, through the process of dicking around with my turn signal bulbs, the guy managed to make the one on the right side stop working. He got it going again, after some struggles, but said that the wiring harness on that side also needed replacing. Yeah, add it to the freaking list, dude.

So it was time for the call to our road service department. The location of the inspection turned out to be a moot point in the end. The conversation went about as I expected. I had driven to the Toledo area and prepared for the worst just in case, but those guys usually aren't any more anxious to disrupt a loaded run than I am. Tonight was no exception. "As long as it's not in your line of sight..." was part of the conversation. I guess, at this point in time, that would depend on which direction I'm looking. The crack seems to have Manifest Destiny on its mind, but it's still not really in front of me yet. I can make it across Indiana. Once I get unloaded on Monday morning, I'll have to hop over to Joliet, Illinois and get the repairs done. Let's hope that they have the parts in stock and everything goes smoothly.

So, now that I get to keep all of my miles, we can review the particulars for the week and see that it was a pretty profitable one - 3,423 miles plus $113.90 in northeast pay. The budget here at Fenian Godfather Inc. calls for weekly revenue of $700 in Fiscal 2010. Any time we crack $1,400 in a week, we find those obnoxious early mornings and long drives a little easier to tolerate.

And, as an added bonus, Mom called to see what was new. I told her that I was in the Toledo area and she asked if I was up for some dinner. Well, does a bear shit in the woods?

Of course I'm up for some dinner. Nobody ever really needs to ask that question, I can assure you.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to develop a new style of prose before she gets here. It seems that someone has caught on to my little charade.