The Enlightened Trucker

The Three Eternal Questions of Our Age

2011-04-30T17:32:00.000-07:00

Every age of mankind must grapple with the eternal questions. When I say 'eternal questions,' I don't mean the kind of questions that have been asked since the dawn of civilization, and have never been adequately answered. I mean the kind of questions that are asked and answered every day, but that doesn't stop those questions from being asked again. These questions are then, in effect, asked eternally. These eternal questions are asked of me quite often. In fact, these eternal questions are asked of me nearly every day.

There are three eternal questions of our age, and these questions are: "Do you have any spare change?" "Do you have a cigarette you can sell me?" and "Do you have a bus pass you are not using any more?" These questions are asked of me more than any other questions in existence. Some days I am asked one of various combinations of two of these questions, and sometimes even all three of these questions, multiple times.

Only now may I speak of eternal answers. Although there are three questions, I have found that there is only one eternal answer, at least in my case. Other may have eternal answers that are one of the possible combinations of 'yes' and 'no,' these eternal answers may change from time to time. Still others may have eternal answers that are etched in stone. I am one of the latter. Not only that, but my eternal answer is the same for each of the three eternal questions. It is a single two-letter word, the simplest eternal answer there ever could be. So I am certainly lucky in that regard.

My eternal answer is 'NO!!!.' That's 'NO' as in "No, I don't have any spare change," "No, I don't have any cigarettes," and "No, I don't have a bus pass that I'm not using."

Even though I have such a simple eternal answer, and even though I have offered it many, many times, I have found that I have, lately, been given fewer and fewer opportunities to offer it again. Most likely, this is due to the fact that I no longer answer to the word, 'hey.' If I am walking down the street and I hear 'hey,' I will assume that that 'hey' is meant for someone else, perhaps an invisible person, and not for me (the last time I checked, I was still visible). Every single time I have answered the call of 'hey' in the past, I have regretted it, because what always follows an answered 'hey' call is one, two, or all of the three eternal questions of our age. And what always follows the asking of any of the three eternal questions is my two-letter eternal answer.

Every time I offer my eternal answer to an eternal question, I know that it is hardly the last time I will do so.

Art Encounters

2007-05-04T13:47:00.000-07:00

As I have explained in my profile, I have an art degree, and I have had a few encounters with the art of two of my former art teachers from college during my time on the road.

The first are outdoor paintings by Harry Ahysen, my former painting teacher. Through the internet, I had learned that he had retired in a city called Washington Courthouse, Ohio. I resolved to look for these murals next time I was in the area. I got my chance one day I stopped at the TA in nearby Jeffersonville, and to my shock and surprise, there was one right there next to it:

Later that day I was able to photograph other Ahysen murals around town:

Once, I had a breakdown in Oklahoma City, which required such extensive repair that I had to stay in a motel. I had plenty of time to visit the Oklahoma City Memorial. Much to my surprise, my former sculpture teacher, Charles Pebworth, had a sculpture in the Memorial's collection:

So I wrote in the guest register, alongside my name, "former student of Charles Pebworth"

Louisville, KY Mural

2007-01-28T23:09:00.000-08:00

I see this building every time I go through Louisville, Kentucky by way of Interstate 64. I don't know what the building is, and I never have the time or place to stop and get a good picture of it. I had to get this photo while I was driving, so I apologize for not getting all of it, but I am still impressed with how well I did. On first glance, it looks like just a bunch of random stripes, as though it were just a modern painting (appealing enough to me), but if you let your eyes adjust, you may make out what appear to be three views of "The Louisville Lip."

See 'im?

Batman's Cave, Perhaps?

2007-01-28T22:46:00.000-08:00

This is the weirdest place I've ever taken a load. It's in Carthage, Missouri. It's not a warehouse built on a traditional foundation; no, it's dug out of native limestone. I'm left wondering: was that easier to build, for some reason?

In Memorium

2007-01-26T16:59:00.000-08:00

Even at this point in the month, I still see many flags at half-staff, and yes, it's because of the death of former president Gerald Ford. I thought now would be a good time to record my thoughts about him.

I am old enough to remember him, and though I wouldn't have voted for him now, I did vote for him in a mock election when I was in 6th grade. He won. We all liked him. And we were all surprised when we woke up the next day to find out that Jimmy Carter had won the real election.

And why did that happen? Let's all say it together, shall we?

"He pardoned Nixon, and that cost him the election."

This little historical mantra has been repeated a lot these days, and frankly, I'm tired of hearing it. I doubt there's any truth to it. So what if he was the incumbent? He was the only man in history to serve as both president and vice-president while having been elected for neither. Could anyone really leverage an electoral victory out of an incumbency like that?

Let's face it: he was still a Republican, and a hand-picked successor to a disgraced Republican presidency, and I think it's reasonable to suggest that the country had had just about enough of Republicans at that time. It didn't matter how nice a guy Ford was; his campaign was doomed from the start. "Our national nightmare is over" seems to be his most famous and most eloquent quote; but do any of you remember this one? "There is no Soviet domination of eastern Europe." Couldn't that one have cost him an election?

I think it's quite fitting for our current train-wreck of a president to eulogize Ford; after all, they both pronounced "nuclear" as "nucular."

The other notable recent death is that of Saddam Hussein. Although I adamantly oppose capital punishment in all cases, it's hard to feel sorry for him. Here was a man who took, in a twenty-five year period, a hundred times more than what the average person will earn in a lifetime. Certainly, Saddam knew that we all have to go sometime, and yet he tried to cling to his wealth indefinitely, as if he could take it with him. Didn't he refuse exile as well? I have to think that he must have wanted to get caught.

Still, he had to be executed so we may all say, "He got what he deserved." But does anyone "deserve" death? We're all getting it whether we want it or not. I prefer to say that we deserve to live in a world without him; we got what we deserve.

And why all the fuss about the execution video? I've seen it, and the sickening feeling that I got when I saw the WTC collapse was absent when I saw Saddam hanging on a rope. I think he got the easy way out. Isn't it a privilege to be told when we will die? Really, how many of us get to choose when, or how? I saw no suffering in that video, and the calm, peaceful look on the dictator's face betrayed no pain whatsoever. There simply wasn't time for pain; it was all over, literally, in a snap. The Nicholas Berg beheading was far more gruesome.

Nevertheless, I will part company with nearly everyone and say that this was not an execution that needed to be carried out. We removed him from power; isn't that good enough? Can we bring back even one of his victims? When you really think about it, the message behind it seems to be this: "Hey kids, don't grow up to be a ruthless dictator, you might just get away with it until you're seventy years old."

Someone Has Some Explaining To Do

2007-01-13T13:25:00.000-08:00

I know that I am not the first to notice this, but- since it is January, after all, and this is the traditional time to look back at the previous year- we actually made it through a year without a deadly hurricane making landfall in the United States!

So, Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, why is this? Aren't hurricanes the Almighty's way of expressing His divine displeasure with abortion and homosexuality? Did both of these abhorrent practices miraculously end without the media taking notice? Wow, that's pretty impressive, I hadn't heard...

Well, perhaps that's not quite true- Rosie O'Donnell is still a lesbian, and she is still successful. As long as that's true, I'm sure that we, as a society, risk the incurrence of divine wrath. Plus, if I understand correctly, abortions are still available for those that want one...

Which gives me an idea. Next time a killer hurricane makes its way into the Gulf, I know a sure-fire way to prevent it from making landfall- and it works like this:

I say we forcibly compel a few hundred lesbians, fags, abortion doctors, stem-cell researchers, evolutionists, democrats, and anyone else that Pat Robertson thinks that God hates, onto a cruise ship and set them adrift in the Gulf of Mexico. I'd wager that within the hour, God will turn his divine eye towards this development, utter a mighty, "Hey, wait a minute," and divert the hurricane toward the ship and completely destroy it, sparing the U.S. Gulf Coast.

Great idea, isn't it? You may thank me later.

Maybe a lack of divine wrath can't explain our dearth of killer storms last year. Maybe Al Gore is right about global warming. Maybe we can expect an increase in the number of deadly hurricanes (just as the poster for his movie plainly suggeests), but we didn't witness such an increase last year because CO2 emissions finally went down! This is great news, isn't it?

Which gives me an idea. Whatever it is we are doing to stop CO2 emissions, we need to keep doing it. I don't know what it is we were doing, however, but keep it up. I do understand that a lot of people died last year, stopped breathing, and thus stopped emitting carbon dioxide from their lungs, so maybe that's what did it; if so, then I must say this- c'mon, folks, let's keep dying! Keep up the good work! If you didn't die last year and you would like to know what you can do to stop global warming, here it is- stop breathing. If you feel that you can't stop breathing, then try not breathing so often. I understand that on average, a human takes one breath for every four heartbeats, so I would sugest that we take one breath for every- oh, let's say eight heartbeats. If you see yourself turning blue, that means that you're still breathing too often.

Let's all work together folks, and we can assure that our future will be free of deadly hurricanes, and no presidential administration will ever be embarrassed again.

Oops- I don't know what we should do about earthquakes.

Damn.

Visitors in Wyoming

2007-01-06T20:53:00.000-08:00

Can you believe it? These guys interrupted their southerly flight to pay me a visit at the truck stop in Fort Bridger, Wyoming. They were not shy at all. They stayed long enough to figure out that I had no food to offer them, and to pose for this picture. Then they waddled away.

The Master has Arrived

2007-01-06T20:42:00.000-08:00

A recent trip to the Denver area produced the following experience- I had just finished parking at a Flying J, a truck stop chain notorious for their cramped and almost-impossible-to-park-in parking lots. Another driver approached me, all the while with a big smile on his face. I was thinking, "Oh no, this can't be good...can it?" I reluctanctly opened my window to greet him; here is what he had to say-

"You're about the tenth guy to try that!"

"Well," I replied, "That doesn't mean I enjoyed it."

He was referring to the spot I just backed into. Yes, it was difficult, but not particularly so. Ten other drivers had tried and given up?

Well I guess, then, they weren't backing masters, like me.

How I Knew I Was a Genius

2006-11-14T22:24:00.000-08:00

I'm going to have to do some setting up for this one- Here it is at the beginning of winter, and the heater in my truck wasn't working. My remedy for the situation was a portable electric heater that connects through one of the cigarette lighter-style electrical outlets located throughout the interior. I was in Denver (cold), so naturally, I didn't want to freeze my ass off when I was sleeping, so I let the heater run all night. This saves fuel, obviously, but it also runs down the battery.

So I was ready to leave the next morning. I turn the key.

Click.

Great, now I have to get a jump. But then I thought- and here's the genius part- "Hey, wait a minute, don't I have a reefer? Isn't that a small deisel engine with a battery?"

Why, yes it is.

So I hook up the jumper cables and turn the key again.

Click.

Okay, so I have to let it charge a bit first. I let the reefer engine run for about a half hour and I turn the key again.

VROOOM!!

All right, so this isn't the first time that anyone has tried this. But no one had to suggest this to me- I figured it out on my own. I didn't have to bother anyone, and no one was the wiser.

Damn, I'm good.

Giant Cross

2006-11-14T21:43:00.000-08:00

I recently visited one of the giant crosses I mentioned in an earlier post- this is the one near Amarillo, Texas. I hope these pictures will give you some idea of the scale of these things.

And here's what could be my best photo ever-

And lest we forget, this is near the "Leaning Tower of Texas-"

Hash Browns, East St. Louis Style*

2006-09-30T21:59:00.000-07:00

I recently came across a recipe that I simply must share with you.

Hash Browns, East St. Louis Style

Ingredients-

1 greasy, dirty grill, preheated to too many degrees Fahrenheit
2 cups hash browns, used
1 stick of butter
1 dirty floor

Dump the hash browns on the grill. Clean the grill with them. Knock the hash browns on the floor. Wipe the floor with them. Sweep them up and put them on a plate. If they look like something you wouldn't feed a dying man against whom you hold a grudge, they are done. Make sure your worldly affairs are in order. Serve.

And the butter? That goes down the back side of your shorts. That will make it easier on both you and your customer when he shoves those poisonous hash browns up your ass. Under no circumstances are you to put that butter on the hash browns. That would be appropriate; therefor, it is not allowed.

*Also known as "Hash Blacks" or "Hash Trash"

Has This Ever Happened To You?

2006-09-30T21:39:00.000-07:00

I walk into a truck stop restaurant and sit down. The waitress comes over.

Waitress: Can I get you something to drink?
Me: Coke, please.
Waitress: Is Pepsi OK?
Me: YES!!!

Or this-

Waitress: Can I get you something to drink?
Me: Pepsi, please.
Waitress: Is Coke OK?
Me: YES!!!

One of the two above scenarios happens every time I order a drink at a truck stop restaurant. Or at least it does when I go to a restaurant at a truck stop that is not one of the major chains. I've played this stupid game at the major chains often enough that I have the cola-of-choice for each memorized- Flying J, Coke; Petro, Pepsi; TA, Pepsi. Pilot and Love's are not on this list because with the exception of a few Pilots out west, they never have a good old-fashioned sit-down restaurant.

I think next time I'll just order a Pepsi-or-Coke. Maybe her head will explode.

What I See Most Often, Part II

2006-09-30T21:12:00.000-07:00

I knew I forgot something.

RVs

I'm always behind an RV. My governor is set at 65 mph, which means that the RVs will always be going 64.9 mph.
Dinosaurs

Yes, you read that right. Of course, they are always covered with Kudzu. It truly is "The Vine That Ate The South." I like to call these "Highway Topiaries."
Grafitti

Also everywhere. Every city in America now has its share of gangstas marking their territory, like dogs with no talent for graphic design.

I have seen some interesting grafitti that is the same in multiple states. One example is "Trust Jesus" painted on bridges. It's everywhere, always in the same handwriting. Maybe it's another truck driver? There's also numerous plugs for www.godproven.com. I've visited that one. Of course, he proves no such thing, but it's worth a visit if you don't mind spending your evening slogging through about 50 pages of bad HTML and conspiratorial rant.

What I see most often

2006-09-13T09:12:00.000-07:00

Mountains, hills, sky, grass...

Okay, I guess I should discuss what I notice the most. Well, I have a little list.

Those stupid orange barrels

You looking for a good investment? Invest in whatever company makes those stupid orange barrels! They're everywhere. Apparently, this country can't ever get enough of them. They line every interstate in every major city. I find them very annoying.
Those stupid orange cones

And ditto for those stupid orange cones. I like to call them "witch's hats."
Crosses

The Christian kind...

They're marking the scene of every drunk-driver-fatality accident, only they're so many of them, one has to wonder if they're all related to drunk-drivers only. I have long thought it would be interesting to count how many I see on a typical trip and try to come up with some sort of average figure, and then estimate how many there are in the whole country. Also, there seems to be an unwritten rule among farmers- if there is at least one hill on your land, then you owe it to the world to put three crosses on top of it- one yellow, two white. Boring! Not to mention, unoriginal.

There are three cities I know of with a church sporting a HUGE cross, and I mean HUGE! They are Amarillo, Knoxville, and Effingham. If I could just get a picture of the one in Effingham, I will post it here.
Graveyards

Also everywhere. I've noticed that there are a lot of truck stops located within the vacinity of a graveyard; there's even one in Denmark, Tennessee with a small burial plot right there at the truck entrance, and another one in Ironto, Virginia, with a small graveyard that appears to be on the same property.

I like to call these "Marble farms."
Churches

If a town is too small to have its own fire station, they can still be counted upon to have at least two churches. I don't know where their priorities are.
Wal-Mart

Surprise, surprise, surprise! I think the building itself is the only thing at Wal-Mart that is not made in China- though I could be wrong about that.
Dollar General

If a town is too small to have its own Wal-Mart, then it will at least have its own Dollar General. Most of the time, they will have both.
Plastic bags

These things usually show up caught on barbed-wire fences. This brings up an important issue- how much of roadside trash is discarded packaging? I would say just about all of it. Do we really need to produce it in the first place?

But there those plastic bags are, flapping in the breeze forever. I like to call these "barbed-wire angels."
Bare feet

Yes, you read that right. There seems to be another unwritten rule that requires the front-seat passenger of every car to remove his or her shoes and socks and to put his or her bare feet on the dashboard. I don't make the rules, I just observe them in action.

I like to call these people "idiots."
Foundation for a Better Life billboards

I'm sure you've seen these, too. I can say with certainty that they are in every major city in the country, right next to those stupid orange barrels. The story behind these is that an anonymous millionaire is trying to be inspiring, and I'd have to say that he's succeeding. My only beef with him is when he suggests that we should also admire fictional characters, namely, Shrek and Kermit the Frog.

These billboards have inspired these two parodies from me:

Well, I hope I have also inspired you.

See ya next time.

Maybrook Ain't Mayberry

2006-09-06T18:22:00.000-07:00

There's a TA truck stop in Maybrook, New York, which is down in the "heel" of this shoe-shaped state. I go there often. I was having a very late dinner there one day and an exchange happened between the waitress and a patron that I'll never forget, and I simply must relate to you now.

Another driver seated opposite from me at the counter had just paid his bill; the kind that arrives on a tray and is taken by the waitress. He says this-

"Wait a minute! I gave you 36 cents..."

To which the waitress replies, "Oh no sir, there was no change with that check, but just so you don't yell at me, I'll give you your 36 cents back."

And so, the disputed 36 cents made its way back to our hero, which prompted this comment from him-

"You've had your head up your ass all night! You let me sit here all damn meal with an empty tea glass..."

To which the waitress replies-

"KISS MY ASS!!!"

Our driver friend's reply was almost predictable-

"Get your head out of it and I might!"

That was the funniest statement that night. All of us at the counter, I'm sure, were trying hard not to laugh out loud, including me.

So he heads toward the exit, but that didn't stop him from recounting his story just one more time. I don't know who he was talking to- manager, perhaps? But there he went again, and we all could hear it-

"I gave her 36 cents. She owes me five dollars. No big deal..."

Blah, blah, blah... Empty tea glass, blah, blah, blah...

"But that's okay. I just wanted you to know what she did."

Someone else at the other side of the counter caught the exasperated look on my face, and he says to me, "Gee, he's making such a big deal over 36 cents?"

I had to think, "Yeah, where does this guy think he is, New York or something?"

Thomas Edison, Move Over

2006-09-03T18:12:00.000-07:00

One great advantage to spending so much time on the road is that I have the time for creative thought. For example, I just came up with an idea for an invention that is bound to make me a millionaire. Here's a picture of it-

Bear in mind that it's only a prototype, and I'm still working out numerous kinks in the design.

I call it the "Sweeping Smackulator," and I plan to market this new, ingenious device as a coping mechanism to help drivers deal with the conditions present in every truck stop restaurant. Just take your Sweeping Smackulator with you when you go into the restaurant, and use the broom end to sweep out the contents of the overturned trash can that the previous occupants of that table left behind, and secondly, brush the crumbs off the seat. Then, use the flyswatter end to smack the omnipresent flies that will inevitably be buzzing around you as you wait for your order to arrive. At the center of the Sweeping Smackulator is a calculator designed to help you figure the tip you should leave. And here's the best part- no matter what buttons you push or in what order, the display will always read "0." Let me be totally honest here- if you walk into a truck stop restaurant with a Sweeping Smackulator and actually use it, then as far as you should be concerned, you don't owe a tip.

Hell, they should pay you.

Besides, the food at restaurants nowadays is so expensive, you can be sure that they're sticking it to you. They've probably already added the tip, and just didn't tell you. I think that truck stops all figure that we drivers are loaded with money. But as I mentioned previously, we're not poor, but we sure ain't rich.

I plan to offer my invention, for a limited time, with a free order pad and pencil. That way you can write your order yourself so the waitress can't screw it up.

I'm also working on a coping mechanism to help drivers deal with the typical truck stop restroom.

Excuse me, now, as I reap my freakin' riches.

Damn.

Random Thoughts

2006-09-03T00:26:00.000-07:00

Name Change

Why don't we go ahead and change the name of this country to something more fitting? I would suggest "The United States of Road Work Ahead." And we could also just reduce ourselves to just two states, with the Mississippi river as the dividing line. Let's call the western half "Left Lane Closed" and the eastern half "Right Lane Closed." Yeah. That's what we ought to do.

The Voice of Experience

Most truck stops sell those lovely little breakfast sandwiches, you know, the sausage-cheese-muffin things. Those are great. The appeal is obvious- it's a quick meal for the driver in a hurry, a category which usually includes me. TA has them, and I often get a couple for myself. I highly recommend them. What's even better is the fact that they are available throughout the day.

There is, however, a competing truck stop that sells their own brand (I won't mention any names, but their initials are "FJ".) They sell theirs only up until lunch time. They keep them in metal pans under warming lights for who-knows-how-long. This environment doesn't just keep the sandwiches warm; no, it doesn't just cook them, either. It burns them. NEVER GET THESE! I found out the hard way. Three times I bought their sandwiches, only to pull off the wrapper and take a big bite out of what was essentially a god-damned hockey puck. I was not amused.

Labor Day Cancelled

We will not be having Labor Day this year. We will not be having Labor Day next year, either; it has been outsourced to India.

Today's History Lesson- Cozad, Nebraska

2006-08-29T15:59:00.000-07:00

I mentioned in an earlier post that I longed for a chance to visit the Robert Henri Museum in Cozad, Nebraska, located off exit 222 of Interstate 80. Many times I have passed this spot during a long and boring drive through America's heartland. Now, Robert Henri was not a name that ever cropped up in any of my art history classes while I was in college; I found out about him only after I graduated, his book The Art Spirit being one I willingly and gladly read on my own; I had since associated him with the state of New York, and I was curious as to what his connection to Nebraska might be.

Maybe he retired there, I thought.

Well I recently had my chance to visit the museum, and it turns out the real story is far more interesting than I could have imagined. On one hand, my visit was a great disappointment; on the other, quite a history lesson.

It turns out there was indeed a place to park my truck in the small town of Cozad, and the museum was about a one-mile walk from my chosen parking spot. I had to walk over about five pairs of railroad tracks to get there; lucky for me, there was no train traffic to contend with. There were, however, plenty of train cars for me to peruse, and I instantly regretted not bringing my camera along; I might now be working on my own version of Charles Sheeler's Rolling Power if I did.

I finally reached a roadsign reading "Robert Henri Museum," with an arrow pointing left. There it was, all right- it was a 100-year-old hotel undergoing renovations. There was a sign in front of the place notifying me that the museum had been temporarily relocated down the street; this was disappointment #1. So I walked a little ways farther, and there it was- an old store front that now functions as the Robert Henri Museum. I walked in and was immediately greeted by my gracious hostess. "Are you familiar with the work of Robert Henri?" she asked. "Yes, and I've read his book," I replied. "The Art Spirit?" she asked. "Yes," I said as she pointed out her one copy, not for sale. She then showed me another book, Son of the Gamblin' Man by Mari Sandoz, a novelization of the Henri Story. I bought that one, along with a reprint of a special section of The Cozad Local from November 27, 1956, which was when the town finally learned the truth about their founder.

It turns out that Robert Henri's real name was Robert Henry Cozad, and his father, John Cozad, founded the town of Cozad, Nebraska. John was a gambler, and his game of choice was Faro. John became so good at the game that he made a fortune from it, finally getting barred from playing it at most places in California during the gold rush. John later turned his attention to real estate development in Nebraska. It was a decision that was to bring conflict to his and his family's lives; this was, after all, America's "Wild West" days.

The following is an excerpt from that issue of The Cozad Local from November 1956; it tells the shocking truth better than I could:

The final incident occurred later when Mr. Cozad was preparing to go to Denver on some business. He was upstairs over his mother-in-law's store dressing when a Mr. Pearson entered Mrs. Gatewood's store. He was in a violent rage and demanded to see Mr. Cozad. Mrs. Gatewood was very much frightened as she was alone, and he told her in his rage that he had come to kill Cozad. She ran upstairs and told Mr. Cozad what had happened. He told her to tell Pearson that he would be down presently. Pearson and Cozad had had some serious trouble a few days before when Cozad had ordered him to keep his cattle off his land. He finally came down, and Pearson proceeded to abuse and threaten him. He ordered him out but Pearson attacked him with a knife. Cozad, having on a heavy overcoat, was handicapped and Peatson knocked him down among some boxes and was on him attempting to finish him when Cozad succeeded in getting at his pistol and shot him. He died sometime later. After the encounter which was witnessed by Gatewood, Cozad went upstairs, arranged his clothing, left the house, and instead of taking the train to Denver, proceeded on foot across the country south to the Burlington Railroad some fifty miles distant.

His family joined him later, after which they all lived under assumed names- John and his wife took the name "Lee," and the two sons, posing as foster children, each took a different name, Robert adopting the name "Henri" (in effect, Latinizing his middle name) and the other taking the name "Southern." Robert, of course, went on to international acclaim as a painter and art teacher.

I also learned that he pronounced his adopted name like HEN-rye. Good to know. I had always pronounced it ahn-REE. I still think I am right, since I am at least a little familiar with French.

If it wasn't for this very interesting history lesson, my entire trip to the makeshift museum would have been a waste. The museum itself more closely resembled an antique store than an art museum; and the most disappointing aspect of it was the fact that there were no original paintings there, only reproductions. A couple of reproductions noted where the originals were, prompting me to remark to the keeper, "I've been to The Art Institute of Chicago, but I don't remember seeing those paintings there."

This makes the third museum I have visited that was dedicated to a single artist, the other two being the Salvador Dali museum in Florida, and the Demuth Museum in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I guess to be completely honest, I should also include on this list the Cy Twombley Gallery in Houston, but in that case I would be using the term "artist" very loosely.

I'll be reading Son of the Gamblin' Man soon- right after I finish Music by Philip Glass. More on that later.

My Medieval Kentucky Home

2006-08-18T22:50:00.000-07:00

In the recent issue of Skeptical Inquirer there is this headline in the "News and Comment" section: Governor Snubs Kentucky Academy of Science About Intelligent Design. Ernie Fletcher, the governor of Kentucky, "endorsed the teaching of intelligent design as an alternative to evolution," according to this article. Also, apparently the good governor sends out a form letter "in response to any letter expressing concern about the teaching of intelligent design." Among the tidbits of wisdom in that letter were these: intelligent design is a "self-evident truth;" and "...90% of the population understands."

Thank you, Governor Fletcher, for reminding us that whenever we need to find the truth about anything, we need only to put the matter to a vote. Be informed, scientists and science teachers everywhere- true believers have outvoted you.

But why stop at intelligent design? What other "truths" may we file under the heading "self-evident?" Well, here are just a few that I can think of in one afternoon:

The world is flat. Yeah yeah yeah, Magellan proved otherwise, but that was before I was born, so I don't know that it ever really happened.

The sun goes around the earth. And so do the stars.

And the stars are stuck onto a solid black surface that surrounds the earth, just beyond reach. I know that I can knock some down if I throw a rock at them hard enough.

Summer is hot because the sun is closer to the earth during that season.

Winter is cold because the sun is farther away from the earth during that season.

Things fall because they are heavy.

If I drop two things of two different weights at the exact same moment, then the heavier one will reach the ground first.

Whenever a bad storm hits anywhere, it's because the same intelligent designer that designed the earth is angry.

Whenever my stomach growls, it's the groan of a demon.

Whenever I fart, it's a demon spirit leaving my body. What else could smell so bad?

Death is ALWAYS justice. It's a reward for the faithful and a punishment for the wicked.

When I figure out why it is that a "self-evident truth" needs to be taught in a classroom, I'll blog about it. When I figure out how a person with such a naive mindset could get elected governor, I'll blog about that too.

Don't wait up for me.

Another Breakdown

2006-08-18T12:13:00.001-07:00

I now have time to catch up on some blogging, for at the moment, I am sitting in a hotel room in Kansas City, just a stone's throw from the shop where my truck is being worked on. What is it this time? Probably the starter. I stopped at a rest area just south of St. Joseph, and I wasn't even five minutes; my truck would not start again after I left the rest room. Getting the truck with a trailer out of the cramped rest area was tricky business, but we made it out okay.

Truck, 1; Mailbox, 0

This last incident comes on the heels of another nightmare, one of a number of nightmares that happened in North Carolina.

All I was trying to do was get closer to my pickup location for the next morning; I took what I thought would be a shortcut to a truck stop just a few miles away. My road maps often do not go into the level of detail that I need, and I ended up on a dead-end street that was not designated as such. Even worse was the fact that it was an upper-class neighborhood, a narrow street, plenty of curves, and at night.

I had to back out.

But I did have some help- a man that lived in one of those fancy houses held a flashlight for me, and he mentioned that in all the time he lived there, this was about the 6th time this has happened. That made me feel a little better. After what seemed like hours, I was able to back the trailer into a driveway and turn around. In the process, I knocked over a mailbox. Sorry, guy, but your mail will still get delivered.

It was US highway 601 that got me into that mess. It was quite a scenic drive, actually. I passed a farm with a sign on the property that read, "S & L sales is a bad vendor." The sign didn't go into details. A few miles later I saw another sign reading "Don't buy from Horton Homes."

I thought, "Wow, people out here really know how to hold a grudge."

An Inconvenient Review

2006-08-06T18:57:00.000-07:00

Well I went to see the Al Gore movie, An Inconvenient Truth, and it was just as I thought.

The "fact" that so-called greenhouse gasses- CO2 being foremost among them- are the cause of the greenhouse effect- is something that is merely asserted, not just in this movie, but anywhere you look in the entire global warming debate. I have seen no proof of this idea, neither from Al Gore's slide show or on the internet; and I've been looking for quite some time. No one, not even Al Gore, has taken it upon himself to explain exactly how this colorless gas could act like the glass in a greenhouse, nor has this ever been illustrated or even put in layman's terms. Why do I feel like I'm the only one demanding to see such a demonstration? Am I? Don't the "Chicken Littles" owe us an explanation? Carbon dioxide as the cause of ecological disaster is now, and has always been throughout the debate, an article of faith among the environmentalists; why should it remain so? Isn't this really the crux of the matter?

At the start of this movie, there was a short graphic illustration that purported to explain the role of CO2, but I'd have to say that it merely reinforced the common misunderstanding of it, and it goes something like this- excess carbon dioxide rises to the top of the atmosphere, where light from the sun, on its way toward Earth, can pass through it, but radiation reflected back the other way magically cannot. This layer of CO2 thus acts like a blanket, trapping radiation which warms the earth and melts glaciers.

Anyone who paid attention in his high school science classes will understand that this is not how carbon dioxide behaves. Carbon dioxide is one of the heavier constituents of the air and is mostly found at ground level; it's not going to rise and form a layer anywhere. Fill a balloon with helium and let it go; we all know that we will never see that balloon again. Fill a balloon with carbon dioxide, and you could practically use it as a doorstop. Even Gore recognizes that plants breathe CO2, so it would make sense that it would be at ground level so as to be available for the flora. So, where this idea came from - that there's a layer of carbon dioxide "up there" somewhere causing all this trouble- is still a mystery to me.

But, as Gore explains, he does have a correlation- ice cores drilled out of the north/south poles have air bubbles trapped in them, and scientists can supposedly determine both the carbon content and the temperature of the surrounding air at the time that the ice formed. Even if you buy this, all they have is a simple correlation- specifically, a carbon/temperature correlation. "But correlation does not prove causation," one might object. Exactly. I thought the same thing. It's a rational fallacy so well-known and so common that it has been given a Latin name- post hoc, ergo propter hoc (after this, therefore because of this).

Gore's explanation of the greenhouse effect is also at odds with the explanation I was given years ago, long before the phrase "global warming" was on everyone's lips. It has long been my understanding that water vapor- also known as "clouds"- was the primary, if not the only cause of the greenhouse effect. You've probably seen- and felt- the greenhouse effect in action. Just remember back to sunny and cloudless winter day, one which ended with a storm that rolled in right around sunset. Didn't you think to yourself, "Wow, this sure is a warm night for it being winter." That's because the clouds are now acting like a blanket, preventing a lot of the day's heat from radiating upwards and away from you, as it would if those clouds weren't there. On a night like that, you could look up and see what is causing this; but no one has ever been able to look skyward and honestly remark, "So there's that layer of carbon dioxide that's been causing so much trouble." Understanding this much is crucial to understanding what is wrong with the global warming debate.

There is another illustration in the movie that gave me a reason to pause- it's the one where Gore talks about the Gulf Stream and compares it to a massive heat pump. He mentions in passing that long, long ago, glaciers melted in North America that allowed the Great Lakes to form. Although I have no reason to doubt this, a very important question immediately presents itself- what caused those glaciers to melt? Was there too much carbon in the atmosphere back then? Was Exxon a major polluter even before the Stone Age? Again, I feel like I am the only one asking this question, and I shouldn't be.

Whatever the answer to that question is, certainly we have a right to wonder if the same forces of nature that gave us the Great Lakes might still be in operation today; or similarly, if glaciers are truly permanent fixtures upon the earth. Put another way- is anthrocentric carbon dioxide emissions the one and only explanation for glacial melting? Obviously, if the Great Lakes are indeed melted glaciers, then the answer must be no. Has another explanation ever been suggested? Yes.

It's known as the Milanchovich effect. Although I won't turn this blog into a full scientific discussion about it, I'll still do my best to give a short explanation here. Do you know how the earth's axis is not perfectly perpendicular to the sun, but is in fact tilted slightly? The Milanchovich effect is predicated on the idea that this tilt changes over time; in effect, the earth's poles are slowly spiraling outward. This spiraling will eventually reach its limit, and the gravitational tug of the moon will reverse the process, meaning that the earth's poles will start to spiral inward. This outward/inward cycle of spiraling coincides with ice ages. To an earthly observer, this means that the sun should appear higher in the sky during any present season than in the previous year, even if only by a few seconds of arc. This must be the way the earth moves; in order for this movement not to occur, the planet would have had to have been perfectly balanced in all respects from the very beginning of its creation; and no extraneous movement would have been present before the moon was captured in its orbit. In addition, other factors, such as the shape of the earth's orbit (it's not circular and it's not perfectly elliptical, either) and the fact that the sun's energy output is cyclical, are also filed under the heading of the Milanchovich effect.

Al Gore makes no mention of this in his movie; in fact, he considers no explanation for global warming/glacial melting other than his own alarmist one, and he cynically writes off the skeptics as those who refuse to see the painfully obvious data right under their noises.

Which brings us to what is really offensive about this movie- and the whole environmentalist argument in general- is that they have made it impossible for anyone to voice a reasonable objection without sounding like a Republican. No one is paying me to write this review, and I'm not a lobyist for the "big polluters." Global warming is truly a "wedge issue," and the wedge is now so effective that I'd bet that the Republicans are wishing they'd thought of it themselves. One could argue that there is way too much partisanship in this movie; Al's lecture is repeatedly interrupted by scenes from the 2000 election sob story, as if that will assure us that everything he says in this movie is unassailable truth. Yes, Al, I voted for you in 2000, you may have been robbed, and now we have to deal with the biggest dope the White House has ever seen; but I didn't vote for you because I thought America could benefit from environmentalist scare tactics.

Mr. Gore makes much of the idea that scientists worldwide agree with his version of reality one hundred percent; there is a consensus, so to speak. When I heard that, I immediately recognized it as total bullshit (and I think I may have been the only one in the theater that night with an operating bullshit detector). This little lie is something I read about a few months before I saw the movie in a publicly available report entitled Nine Lies About Global Warming. I do know of at least one doubter who has gone public with his skepticism, and his name is Dr. Neil Frank. Those of us in Houston will know him as the weatherman on our local CBS affiliate. He was also the former director of the National Hurricane Center. I always saw him as a quirky little guy that gets way too excited about hurricanes, and I never paid him much mind; well although I still see him that way, I have a lot more respect for him now that I have heard him voice his skepticism. The following is a quote from memory, so I make no claims to accuracy; but what he said was this: "The same mathematical formulas that I cannot rely on to make a three-day forecast are being used to predict what will happen in four, five hundred years." Dr. Frank has also told the Washington Post that global warming is a "hoax." I wouldn't go that far. I would say, however, that it's bad science, or at least misunderstood science.

I also have to wonder if Gore and company are conflating a known fact about CO2 with his viewpoint, which is this- CO2 really is a "greenhouse gas." It's something plant life needs just to exist, and greenhouse growers will pump it into their greenhouses to increase yield. It's the agricultural equivalent to the oxygen in an oxygen tent. This movie also makes no mention of another well-known fact- every living creature puts carbon dioxide in the atmosphere with every exhale. The movie ends with a call to action; should I suggest that we all stop breathing?

Furthermore, has it escaped everyone's notice that all throughout history, people have been blaming themselves for natural occurances? Couldn't it be that the environmentalists are simply continuing this ignominious tradition? If so, then what Gore is saying makes no more sense than if he were to tell us that we need to sacrifice another virgin to the volcano god. That's how much faith is needed to fully accept his position.

I have, however, no reason to doubt his sincerity. Gore really wants us to believe that we are the cause of melting glaciers and everything else that occurs along his slippery slope to global ecological disaster, and that we can- and should- stop it, without showing any evidence to support either proposition. He wants us to believe that Katrina has ushered us into, in his words, "a period of consequences." He wants us to believe that CO2 is a dangerous pollutant, and we have been dumping so much of this pollutant into the air for too long, and now it is time to pay for this crime. We must all be held accountable, and if the Kyoto Protocols won't do it, then Mother Nature surely will.

In other words, there IS justice in the universe after all.

Hmm... that would certainly be news to me.

Damn.

Backwoods, Please. No, BACKWOODS. Third Shelf Down, The One In The Middle...

2006-08-04T18:18:00.000-07:00

I smoke.

I know, shame on me. But at least I no longer smoke cigarettes. I smoke cigars. Hey, I've got to do something to make the time fly while I'm driving, so I rely on my extensive CD collection and my cigars.

My favorite brand is Backwoods. Simple enough name, eh? I'll bet you've heard of them. They're really quite popular; so popular, in fact, that all of the major travel center chains carry them, if not at every single location. Even most C-stores carry them, as well as many of the small mom-and-pop truck stops. I can almost always get a pack when I want one.

Backwoods cigars are intentionally crude; they look like the smoker rolled them himself. You've probably seen actors smoking them in cowboy movies. More than once, I have heard them referred to as "Clint Eastwood cigars." Here's why-

Backwoods cigars sure are tasty little devils. They come in seven flavors now, including banana (which I don't care for. I was surprised). Their flavor stems from the fact that they are all tobacco; no paper wrapper, like you'd find around Swisher Sweets. Sometimes, the only cigars I can find are Swishers, but you won't catch me smoking those sons-of-bitches. Roll up some newspaper, soak it in some cherry-flavored cough syrup, and you've got yourself a Swisher Sweet. But I digress- Backwoods Honey are my favorites, followed by Honey-Berry, and Sweet Aromatic. They are far more flavorful than the kind of cigars that come in their own glass or tin tube, which I also enjoy on occasion- many truck stops sell those as well!

Like I mentioned, they are popular. In a few states, the law allows them to be placed with other products on the floor, meaning I can grab a pack myself. In most states, however, the law requires that they be placed behind the counter- meaning I have to ask for them. And I tell you, folks, I must mumble, stutter, or both, because whenever I ask for "Backwoods, please," nine times out of ten, what I will get at first is determined by a coin toss.

Here is a picture of the coin that I toss:

I usually end up having to recite some version of the title of this post you are now reading.

Damn.

Three Days in Wichita

2006-07-31T22:33:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm back in business again. It really did take about two hours for help to arrive, and when it finally did, we determined that we still didn't have the right belt. I had to have the truck towed, and that took about another four hours. Furthermore, the truck had to be taken to Wichita because they were the only ones who had the right belt.

Or so I was told.

I was also told that they would get the truck fixed that night. When I arrived at the shop, they were closed. Then I had to get a motel room, for I originally had planned to be on the road again.

It turns out that it's not so easy to find a motel room in Kansas when there's a go-cart competition going on at the same time. I finally struck gold in Haysville, which is still the Wichita area, but at least twenty miles from the shop.

They still had to backorder the belt. The whole process took almost three days. And I missed my chance to visit Wichita's art museum.

Oh well.

I'm still working on tearing Al Gore's movie to shreds.

Breakdown!

2006-07-25T13:51:00.000-07:00

Well, it's finally happened, folks. I've been driving this truck for nine months now, and it finally broke down, a broken belt being the culprit. I'm a little south of Salina, Kansas right now, roasting in the heat, blowing in the strong wind, waiting for help to arrive. ETA is two hours. TWO HOURS. If you've ever wondered what the middle of nowhere looks like, here it is:

By the way- a review of An Inconvenient Truth is forthcoming.

Stuck in Denver

2006-07-22T11:35:00.000-07:00

Am I being punished?

Sometimes it seems that way. After spending a week in Houston, I finally got another load, only it picked up in Waco. Delivery is in Longmont, Colorado, which is the Denver area. I knew I would be late, so I notified my dispatcher, but they did not reschedule. In any event, I was only about three hours late instead of fifteen like I originally said I would be. It turns out my new appointment is three days later. Now I have all that time to kill, not earning money.

I just visited the Denver Art Museum. What a waste of time. Though it doesn't say so on their web site, the museum is effectively closed- all of it- due to construction of the new wing. Oh, there is one exhibit open called Building Outside the Box, which documents the building the new museum. Interesting as it is, it wasn't the worth twenty dollars in cab fare I paid to go see it.

The museum is under construction all right, here's some photos to prove it:

Museum visitors are immediately greeted by white guilt:

There's a park nearby, and guess what was going on there?

The guy in the background- the one at the microphone- was busy spouting off his conspiracy theories.

Denver is the capitol of Colorado, and I do like their capitol building:

When I took this picture, there was a group of people there in front, one of them was blowing a ram's horn trumpet, and the rest of them shouted "Jesus is Lord!"

Denver, I know you don't want to hear this, but here it goes- you've got a lot of creepy people there. And Austin, you have some competition.

I might also take a look at that Al Gore movie, An Inconvenient Truth. I have a feeling the "Truth" in this matter is something other then what the environmentalists would have us believe. If I do see it, I'll definitely blog it.

Open Letter to Dr. Laura

2006-07-21T18:11:00.000-07:00

This thing is about three years old by now, but I've got to put it on my blog. It's just too damn funny to ignore.

Dr. Laura Schlessinger is a radio personality who dispenses advice to people who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by a east coast resident, which was posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them:

When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?

A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this?

Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?

Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Your devoted fan,
Jim

Why Didn't I Think of This?

2006-07-21T18:03:00.000-07:00

I'll tell you why- It's because I have a conscience, that's why.

Seriously folks, I was reading James Randi's SWIFT today and the lead story was one that had me doubled over in laughter. Check it out!

SWIFT

The Gentle Wind Project

Will The Real Jack White Please Stand Up?

2006-07-20T15:14:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned in my profile, I am a great fan of The White Stripes (I have all their albums, even the bad one). Google the name "Jack White" and I'd dare say that the vast majority of hits will point you towards the more talented half of this famous duo. The band is a 90s-to-present phenomenon- meaning they didn't exist in the 80s- but if I remember correctly- and I do- then I can say for certain that I saw Jack White perform when I was in college.

Only he wasn't a twenty-something guitarist back then. He was a middle-aged pool shark.

And he looked just like this guy:

That's not a guitar in his left hand.

As it turns out, he was giving a show on campus; I don't remember when this was, but it couldn't have been later than 1985. It cost me a whole dollar to get in. I was walking into the auditorium right as he was, and he was talking to someone else at the time; this someone else mentioned New Jersey. Jack White then says, "NEW JERSEY?! What a big truck stop that place is!"

Being from New Jersey, I wanted to speak up and defend the place, but I didn't. It was a good thing, too, because Jack White was ruthless.

He was billed as a trick shot artist, but he was mostly an insult artist. He had ample opportunity to show off that latter skill, because he was challenged to a game as soon as he walked into the auditorium. I don't know what that kid thought he was doing, other than getting attention and making it less likely that Jack would get around to showcasing his trick shots.

The kid was no match for him, off course, but that was a foregone conclusion. This took place many years ago, so I don't remember all of the conversation that went on- but I do remember this exchange.

At one moment, Mr. White says to his opponent, "Which nine-ball are you gonna go for?"

No reaction from the kid. Once again he says, "Which NINE-BALL are you gonna go for?"

He liked to brag. We all learned that he could play a perfect game of snooker; he also seemed quite pround of the fact that he was once described as "...a cross between Willie Mosconi and Don Rickles."

Well, I can believe that second part. His arrogance and his insults really didn't bother me, though; I realized that it was just patter, all schtick. What I wanted to see was a lot less of Don Rickles and at least a little of Willie Mosconi.

Willie never showed up. Jack White's act was terrible. Just terrible. He demonstrated maybe four or five trick shots, and he failed at every one of them. There was one trick that really wasn't a trick at all; it involved shooting the cue ball into the open end of a paper sack lying on the table, which then made the sack stand on end, tumble to face the opposite direction, allowing the ball to re-emerge from the sack. This was a pretty effect, and one that Jack himself admitted that anyone could do.

That was the height of the show. The only thing that could have made this show better is if they had given me my money back.

Well, that wraps up this post. I really don't have much to do while I'm driving, other that listen to CDs, smoke, and rifle through the endless stack of index cards that are my memory.

And Jack, if your career is slipping and you are thinking of trying something else, why not take up guitar? What the hell, you already have the name...

New Web Site

2006-07-17T01:43:00.000-07:00

There's a link over there to my new web site; it called MarkAvenue.net and though there's nothing much there now, I intend to use it as my online photo album. Check back often!

Unwelcome Guests

2006-07-17T00:29:00.000-07:00

The unwelcome guests for a truck driver, I've found, fall into four categories: Beggars, drug peddlers, hitch-hikers, and whores. That last category is more commonly known as "lot lizards."

But aren't truck drivers regular customers of the lot lizards? Must be, because the lot lizards are seldom absent from the truck stops. I've never availed myself of their services; not because I consider illicit sex immoral, but for two other very good reasons- I don't feel like getting AIDS or VD, nor do I feel like getting robbed. The lot lizards don't seem to realize that their offers never come with a reason I should trust them. Just to be on the safe side, I always assume that they are armed thieves looking for a way to get into my truck. I make this assumption no matter how good-looking they are. And they are almost NEVER good-looking.

They don't confine themselves to just the truck stops, either. There was one time I was parked in a half residential/half industrial neighborhood in Trenton, New Jersey, right outside of the receiver of my load. I had been driving all night and I knew that in the best of circumstances, I was to get maybe three hours of sleep. I also knew that right outside my door, there was a car parking lot for another nearby business, but it was empty. I was worried that I might be blocking access to it, but I figured if I was, someone would just knock on my door and ask me to move. No big deal.

Well I did get that knock-on-my-door right about sunrise. "Here it comes," I thought. "Someone wants to park in that parking lot."

Nope. It was a whore.

It was a gaunt, middle-aged black whore with no front teeth, to be exact. If I had known that before-hand, I wouldn't have answered the knock. I was disgusted immediately. I was awakened from the small amount of sleep I was getting, and I did not appreciate it. She was totally unconcerned about how inconsiderate she was being. She had obviously been in the business a long time, I can tell she had her sales routine well-practiced.

"I'm clean" she kept saying. "I have condoms!" I still wasn't interested.

She even flashed me a couple of times. Still I wouldn't bite.

She was also begging for cigarette money. I gave her a dollar just to get rid of her. That was perhaps the only time that someone paid her to keep her clothes on.

I was at a truck stop in Minneapolis recently, minding my own, when I heard a shave-and-a-haircut-style knock on my cab. I knew who it was. I got up to tell her to leave and what I saw was the cutest blond chick I've seen in a long time.

"Can I ask for directions?" she says. OK, I thought, I can open my door to give directions. Maybe my first impression was wrong.

So I gave directions. The next thing I hear is "Do you know anyone around here that wants some corporate company?"

I wanted to tell the bimbo that the term is commercial company. It's a well-established piece of parlance. What I said instead was "I doubt it."

"You doubt it! Why do you doubt it?" Oh good, now I'm going to get an argument. I just said "Goodbye" and I started to close my window. As the window was going up she says "Thanks for the directions!" Yeah sure, that's all you really wanted. And that was the last I saw of the little thief.

I get a lot of hitch-hikers too. It against both company policy and federal law to give anyone a ride. It's against my policy to trust them- like I said, I don't feel like getting robbed.

Beggars can show up anywhere at any time. They really bother me. I never understood how anyone could put themselves in the state-of-mind that they see everyone on the street as nothing more than a walking-pocketful-of-spare-change. That's not what I am. I'm not poor, but I'm not rich either, by any means. If I could have back all the money I've given to strangers, I could make a down-payment on this truck. I'm not doing it any more.

The drug peddlers are not much of a problem- except in Dallas or Atlanta. The main truck stops in those towns happen to be in bad neighborhoods. The truck stop in Atlanta doesn't sell my brand of cigars, so if I want them, I have to go to the c-store across the street. That place has bullet-proof glass in front of the cashier. That's never good news. The drug peddlers are always there. I have to run the gauntlet every time I buy my cigars in Atlanta. I never see the police arresting anyone.

I've found that the unwelcome guests are particularly bad in four cities- the aforementioned Dallas and Atlanta, of course, as well as Nashville and Charlotte. I always have to be on my guard when I'm in any of those places.

If there's any lot lizards reading this right now, I think I speak for every other truck driver when I say this- Just let me sleep, will you?

Damn.

Pics! I Have Pics!

2006-07-15T22:37:00.000-07:00

Not all of my time is spent driving and waiting in line. I would probably lose my mind if I couldn't step outside every now and then to snap a digital picture. I particularly enjoy closeups of flowers.

Here's a couple of my older photos. I don't think I need any explanations for them. Enjoy!

Where's My Privacy?

2006-07-15T22:12:00.000-07:00

I was told that driving a truck would be a lifestyle change; indeed it is. I can handle that. What I'm having trouble with is the loss of privacy. Here's what I mean:

Like most trucks, my truck does not have a built-in bathroom. Anything that I need to do in a bathroom must be done in a truck stop restroom- like brushing my teeth. I grew up being the only one in the bathroom at the time when I was brushing my teeth, and I'll bet you did too. I'm sure this happened to you even though you knew that you needed no privacy when brushing your teeth.

Well I don't need privacy when I'm brushing my teeth, either, but that doesn't mean I feel comfortable doing it when I'm not alone. I could walk into a truck stop restroom at two in the morning, no one ahead of me, no one behind me, toothbrush in hand, and just five seconds after touching paste to brush, it happens- someone walks in behind me. It never fails.

"No big deal," you're probably thinking. And it isn't. It still bothers me. I've determined that it's because of this- I hate the feeling that I'm being followed, whether or not that's truly the case. And I need elbow room, which can be an issue if the restroom is a small one. And I don't want someone reaching around me for a paper towel while I'm doing my business.

I don't think I'm unique in this regard. So stop calling me paranoid.

I can't even have two minutes to myself to brush my teeth. Usually.

Damn.

What I do for a living

2006-07-14T20:40:00.000-07:00

I guess my official job title is "truck driver." I often tell others that I do something else.

Here's what I really do: I wait in line.

Yeah, that's what I really do. I wait in line to get loaded. I wait in line to get unloaded. If I'm in heavy traffic, I'm in the longest line of all.

Now a lot of truck stops are getting better about this next point, but previously the worst lines I've waited in were lines for signing receipts after fueling. Nowadays, no receipts are required at most places.

Most places.

I've found out that there is no way to get out of waiting in line at a truck stop. It could be three in the morning in a town with a population of 500, and there's still three people in line ahead of me. Even if there's only one person ahead of me, it's still a ten minute wait. It happens every time.

There was this one time- God knows where it was- when the only thing I wanted to do is pay for my fountain drink. It was around midnight or even later, but there was still about four other drivers ahead of me, and they all insisted on getting their banking done at that time of the day. Meanwhile, I was standing there for what seemed like an eternity, getting frostbite from holding my icy-cold fountain drink. I really felt like just pressing ahead to the front of the line, throwing a couple of skins on the counter and shouting "KEEP THE CHANGE, THANK YOU." But no, I did the polite thing and waited patiently as every other guy ahead of me went through all the motions involved in cashing a check as the feeling gradually disappeared from my right hand. And when I finally got to the counter, paid my money and left, the carbonation was gone.

There was another time in El Paso when all I wanted to do was buy a snack- again, early early early in the morning- and the one guy ahead of me wanted to fight with the cashier over a shower. I don't know what exactly his beef was, but I think that he was upset over the fact that he had to pay for it. Meanwhile others were in line behind me, and this guy ended his dispute with "You can just take your shower and shove it..." To which the guy behind me replied, "Hey, if you don't like it, you can just go somewhere else!" Shower man shouts out "I WASN'T TALKIN' TO YOU, JACK!" Waiting-in-line guy replies with "Well I'm talking to you. We've been standing back here waiting." Cashier interjects, "Please, gentlemen, take it outside!" I felt like saying, "Yeah, really mister, what would Jesus do?" But I missed my chance. I did the polite thing again and kept my peace.

Is there someone watching me from above every time I walk into a truck stop C-store? There would have to be. Whenever I step out of my truck and start heading for the door, every single time I catch someone out of the corner of my eye heading for the door at the exact same time, walking at the exact same speed as me, and I know that he will reach the door at the exact same moment, just so we can play a game of who's-gonna-hold-the-door-for-whom. There has to be someone watching from above just to make sure that I will always walk into a human obstacle course. I'm sick of it.

I'm sick of it.

Next time, I'll talk about brushing my teeth.

Are you ready for this?

2006-07-14T20:30:00.000-07:00

Okay, folks...try not to throw up while you're looking at the photo on the left. Can you guess whose hand that is?

I'm not kidding about this- that hand belongs to none other than sex symbol Madonna.

Kabala, Kabala, Kableck!

So what makes you so enlightened, anyway?

2006-07-06T19:52:00.000-07:00

Yes, I drive a truck, but I like to consider myself "enlightened" because unlike most truck drivers, I have an art degree. Whenever I get the chance during my travels (not often enough), I like to visit the art museum local to wherever I happen to be at the time. Below is a list of links to all the art museums I have visited, to the best of my recollection, either during my career as a driver or before it. They are presented in the order they appear in my favorites folder.

I'm not saying I'm the only intellectual truck driver out there, but I know of no other that can make this claim.

Which is the best? Way, way out in front would be The Art Institute of Chicago. The worst? That's easy, too- The Walker Art Center. I was also disappointed with the museum in Jackson, Mississippi, but it's not their fault- they have no permanent collection, and when I went there, there was only an exhibit of contemporary color photographs; not my cup of tea.

Are there any I would like to visit? Sure! Any major city with an art museum that I have not visited yet is on my list. I have passed the Robert Henri Museum in Cozad, Nebraska several times and have not had the opportunity to stop there yet. I would like to know his connection to Nebraska. I have also read his book years ago (The Art Spirit).

Amon Carter Museum (Fort Worth, Texas)
Contemporary Arts Museum (Houston, Texas)
Dallas Museum of Art (Dallas, Texas)
Demuth Foundation (Lancaster, Pennsylvania)
Edmonton Art Gallery (Edmonton, Alberta)
Frist Center for the Visual Arts (Nashville, Tennessee)
Guggenheim Museum (New York, New York)
High Museum of Art (Atlanta, Georgia)
Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden (Washington DC)
Kalamazoo Institute of Arts (Kalamazoo, Michigan)
Kimbell Art Museum (Fort Worth, Texas)
Lancaster Museum of Art (Lancaster, Pennsylvania)
Menil Collection (Houston, Texas)
Museum of Fine Arts (Boston, Massachusetts)
Museum of Modern Art (New York, New York)
National Gallery of Art (Washington DC)
New Orleans Museum of Art (New Orleans, Louisiana)
Oklahoma City Museum of Art (Oklahoma City, Oklahoma)
Salvador Dali Museum (Saint Petersburg, Florida)
The Art Institute of Chicago (Chicago, Illinois)
The Getty Museum (Los Angeles, California)
The Glenbow Museum (Calgary, Alberta)
The Grand Rapids Art Museum (Grand Rapids, Michigan)
The Huntington Library, Art Collections, and Botanical Gardens (Huntington, West Virginia)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York, New York)
The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth (Fort Worth, Texas)
The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston (Houston, Texas)
The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art (Kansas City, Missouri)
The Phillips Collection (Washington DC)
The Saint Louis Art Museum (Saint Louis, Missouri)
The Toledo Museum of Art (Toledo, Ohio)
The Walters Art Museum (Baltimore, Maryland)
Walker Art Center (Minneapolis, Minnesota)
Washington County Museum of Fine Arts (Hagerstown, Maryland)
Mississipi Museum of Art (Jackson, Mississippi)
Portland Museum of Art (Portland, Maine)
Whitney Musem of American Art (New York, New York)

First post

2005-08-07T00:15:00.000-07:00

This is my blog. I haven't added a photo yet because I haven't figured out how. I will add one when I do. I will also have to take the picture myself, which could present a problem.