7/4/09

Sixteen freaking innings. I had to work this morning, you know. It would have been nice of the Tigers to polish off the Twinkies a little earlier last night. Oh well. At least I didn't stay up all night to hear the end of a loss. (They did lose this afternoon, but that was during work hours.) So that alarm clock this morning was obviously unwelcome. I dragged my ass out to the highway and did some driving though. Life as a grownup does have its drawbacks. A few hours into the day I got a pre-plan for a load leaving Nogales. That helped to lift my spirits.

I decided to take US-90 down to AZ-82 and cut the corner to Nogales, so I ducked off at Exit 302 in Benson. There was the yellow sign that I remembered, right at the end of the exit ramp. Highway 82 is not recommended for trucks. Use I-19. (This one telling you not to leave Nogales on AZ-82 is a little more terse, but serves the same purpose.) I'm pretty sure that they just put up those signs to appease the residents of the little towns along the way. If they can make the truck drivers think that the route sucks, they can keep all of the truck traffic on the interstate. Highway 82 is nice and wide and the climbs are rather mellow. There's no reason not to take a truck along that route and save yourself 25 miles or so.

I got to the broker in Nogales and found that they were closed for the weekend. Color me surprised. Who could have guessed that showing up on a weekend (and a holiday) might be a waste of my time? There was one of our trailers backed up to the loading dock. It had the same types of seals that mine had, so Inspector Clouseau here figures that it must have come from the same shipper. There was nobody present to sign my bills and assume responsibility for my trailer though. After a call to Joplin, I was told to drag the trailer down the street to our main Nogales drop lot. The lot was jam-packed with trailers beyond belief. I found one fairly tight spot along the outer fence and did a pretty respectable job of backing my trailer into it, if I do say so myself.

Once I sent in my empty call, I was reminded of just how efficiently things operate in Nogales. A bunch of information came through regarding that pre-planned load of mine - set out from the same drop yard, relay in Tulsa, order number, load number, origin, final destination, etc. I was not, however, given the number of the trailer that I was to retrieve. Nor was I dispatched to the relay point. (I was already at the relay point but they have to dispatch me as a technical formality.) After a little while I sent a message asking if my trailer had yet crossed the border. I received a reply asking me to check the drop yard. Fuck. Here we go. I sent another message indicating that I didn't know what trailer I was being given. After quite a while, I received a reply with a trailer number. I walked around the yard and found that my trailer was not present. As all of this was transpiring, I was #4 on the board for Nogales. If I'm on the board, then the computer system doesn't have me tied to a load. And I still hadn't been dispatched to the relay point.

After a couple of hours, I sent a message asking if I was still assigned to the load. I got my dispatch after this message, along with a reply apologizing for the delayed dispatch and asking my to send my 'relay made' form once I had picked up my loaded trailer. Yeah, that trailer ain't in America, nearly as I can tell.

So what do we do in this circumstance? Get into a back-and-forth with someone who was probably forced to work today on account of not being important enough to have the day off? Get myself worked up about the fact that I would have a 4,100+ mile week if they could get me out of here before midnight. Pester someone in hopes of finding another load, since mine is apparently still in Mexico. Or just kick back and enjoy the evening off, with 3,040 miles plus my holiday pay already on the books for this week?

Yeah, I went with that last option... or so I thought. I sent a quick message telling the bosses that my assigned trailer was nowhere to be found. Then I was asked to do a yard check and let them know which loaded trailers were in the yard. Relaxation delayed. I wrote down all of the numbers of all of the trailers in the yard and sent a message with the twelve that were loaded. I got a quick reply thanking me for the info so I kinda thought that I might be assigned to one of the loads that was sitting there. Nope.

Once my 14 hour clock had expired for the day, it was time to get started with that relaxation. I made a trip down the business loop to everyone's favorite retailer. Since Wal Mart has decided to embrace mandatory health insurance that will drive its smaller competitors out of business, I figured I might as well drop a few bucks to speed up the process. Shopping list - 1/3 pound hamburgers, Colby-Jack cheese, spicy Italian sausage, sourdough rolls, 29% DEET insect repellant, styrofoam cooler, bag of ice, one undisclosed item, and my new favorite - the $6 single-use disposable charcoal grill.

As I came out of the store, I was treated to the revelation that Nogales' annual fireworks display is launched from a bluff across from the Wal Mart parking lot. That was pretty cool. After the show I drove back over to our drop yard and set up for dinner.

I think this post would be a lot more fun if the cooler's contents weren't fully disclosed... or something. Yeah, that's the ticket. The comfy $10 chair and the $6 grill are open for discussion though. One of my spicy Italian sausages hit the dirt as I was clearing the first round of meat from the grill, so I decided to embrace the local heritage and sacrifice it to the Mayan gods or Aztec gods or whatever it was in this part of the world. Maybe the farmers will get rain or something.

So I have some sausage left in the cooler for meals over the next day or two. That's nice. I ate one tonight and it was delightful, but it was merely an appetizer. Behold the beauty that anchored my holiday feast...


If that ain't fit for a celebration, I don't know what is. Six dollars for a disposable grill, man. I'm not kidding. You truck drivers out there need to pay attention.

So the border is closed for the night. My belly is full. I'm not thirsty, in a manner of speaking. I'm just relaxing and enjoying the evening. As an admitted right-wing hatemonger, fearmonger, warmonger, and whatever other labels we wear these days, it's tempting to do a little light reading and weep for the future as I reflect on another proud birthday for our nation. "That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends..." Government destructive of these ends (along with about ten other passages in the Declaration)? I don't know man. It might be getting there. Here's some food for thought though. I'm 2,000 miles from home. I'm in the United States. While it may not have been their preference, everybody whom I encountered today spoke my language - English. I'm in the United States. Every transaction that I made took place in my own currency - US dollars. I'm in the United States. I'm sitting outdoors and typing on a computer that will communicate the message of my choosing throughout the world and nobody else has any say in the matter. I'm in the United States. This spiel could go on for a bit but I think I've made my point. Yeah, George Washington and Thomas Jefferson would probably puke if they saw the non-productive Marxist nanny state that lies right around the corner if we don't wake up pretty soon. I get it and yes, it is a little sad. You know what though? They couldn't have imagined the amazing advancements and expansion that our free society would produce along the way. Whichever way it goes from here, at least I've never bowed to any descendant of King George III. That has to count for something.

Happy Independence Day everyone.