Today's Thoughts 6/30/12 Hopes And Dreams
By Jeff Head
The phone rings the other night, I am tired from the hard day I put in at the shop working on my truck. I answer it anyway as it is a friend of mine. A short time later, I am talking to a woman that needs a driver because the one she had just never showed up. I agree and find myself self crawling out of bed and traveling through the night and into the next day. I show up at a truck full of musical equipment that needs to be eight hundred miles north of here by eight the next morning. The deal was that I run safe and legal. A few words and the women stands behind me. I jump in and just as quick as I can, show up with the equipment for about a hundred and thirty young adults and their drums and bugle band.
I grab a few hours sleep, and we are off again with the full understanding that I arrive running safe and legal as soon as I can. But this second trip, I know a little more about who and what it is I have found myself working with. Maybe you have seen them in parades or maybe at a game somewhere. Drums and Bugles out on the field, marching in formation while playing their music for the crowd.
I have seen them a little closer, a family that lives and works together. A family that has the one goal, that show must go on. As I watch through some very sleepy eyes, this new world that I find myself in, I see love and happiness and youth and determination like I have not seen in a very long time from the youth of our country. They practice hard, work diligently and when one of them falls, I watched as others stood him up after he continued on despite the injury.
And so with a little help from this old trucker, they were able to make yet another show, jump yet another hurdle just to be told that the buses that transported them around were leaving without them. I know for me this came as hard news after what I did to get there equipment were it was needed, this kind of sucked for me. But can you imagine after all the hard work and practice that not only I watched them do, but they did way before I even knew them just to get this far; being told that tonight might be the end of it all. As I watched, their faces drop in despair and then my heart dropped twice as fast right along with theirs.
The local town here in Ney York came to the immediate rescue and this morning I find myself parked out back of a local school. The kids are still inside fast asleep with plans of waking up this morning, unloading my truck and hitting the field for yet another day of practice. They have absolutely no clue as to how or even if they will ever make another show, but yet they are not going to let that little fact stand in the way of that maybe show being the best show they ever did.
So here we are my trucking friends, finding ourselves with yet another chance to show the world that truckers have hearts too. These folks are not asking for a free hand out or even that I write this today. What they are asking for is buses. Buses that they are willing to pay for. Buses that will transport these kids around for the next few months so that the show can go on.
I hope and pray very much that the next trip in this truck I do is not one that takes this equipment back to the warehouse. If anyone out there knows of a busing company with buses that can help, contact me please. (404-307-9943) I will put them in touch of the proper people and with luck, a deal can be struck and the show will once again, go on. Let us not let the hopes and dreams of this very awesome group of young people be destroyed today. The strength and determination that I have seen these last few days is something that is very much missing in today's youth. Let us help keep what little remains in this country alive and well.
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Saturday, June 30, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Black Eyes And Clowns
Today's Thoughts 6/20/12 Black Eyes And Clowns
By Jeff Head
A area of bruising around somebody's eye or better known as, a black eye. Ever had one? Most people have. I can remember one of my first vividly to this day. When I was still very young, around five or so, I was giving the chore one night of turning out the lights down in the basement. My problem with that chore was that the light switch was on the other side from where the stairs were. As I found out the hard way, the pole supporting the upstairs floor was right in the middle of the room, right in the middle of my path. Of course, still being scared of the dark; you know I was scooting towards that upstairs light at a good clip when I found it.
Then there are other types of black eyes. The black eyes that no matter how hard we work to keep ourselves looking good, some clown somewhere, and you can count on this; always figures out a way to show up on the TV or in the national newspaper. It does not matter who you are or what group you are associated with, from mothers to priest to police, some clown will find a way to do it. It just has to happen that way. I'm thinking it is a un-written law somewhere that we do not know about.
Now I know that these clowns make great news coverage and that news travels great distances when used by a politician as a scare tactic, but are they really worth more than a good chuckle at best? Anyone can tell you a story about a bad cop or perhaps a teacher or priest, you know that yourself. But do you think that either one of those groups wants to keep that clown within their group anymore then we truckers want to keep our brand of clown within our own group. I think not. No one wants connection with this type of black eye yet we all have to live with the tarnished image they leave behind as they do whatever it is they end up doing.
I wish I knew a good answer to never having anyone in my particular group giving the rest of us a black eye. I'm not sure there really is one. On the right day in the wrong moment, any one of us conceivably has the potential to be caught with our britches down. I've come close a time or two myself. Live long enough and sooner or later it will happen. What we can do though is understand that one bad clown does not make all the rest of the clowns bad people. No one wants a bad actor in a group giving the rest of them a black eye and this goes for police all the way to truckers. Not one group out there is immune to this.
I guess all we can do is realize that people will be people and from time to time, they will be a clown that gives the rest of us a black eye. Chuckle about it sure, why not. But to let one clown give all the other hard working decent people in that group a black eye, I think not. To many of us work way to hard in our own groups to allow just one clown to mess up our image. Let's not let them screw up the hard work and dedication put in by the majority no matter what group that clown comes from.
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By Jeff Head
A area of bruising around somebody's eye or better known as, a black eye. Ever had one? Most people have. I can remember one of my first vividly to this day. When I was still very young, around five or so, I was giving the chore one night of turning out the lights down in the basement. My problem with that chore was that the light switch was on the other side from where the stairs were. As I found out the hard way, the pole supporting the upstairs floor was right in the middle of the room, right in the middle of my path. Of course, still being scared of the dark; you know I was scooting towards that upstairs light at a good clip when I found it.
Then there are other types of black eyes. The black eyes that no matter how hard we work to keep ourselves looking good, some clown somewhere, and you can count on this; always figures out a way to show up on the TV or in the national newspaper. It does not matter who you are or what group you are associated with, from mothers to priest to police, some clown will find a way to do it. It just has to happen that way. I'm thinking it is a un-written law somewhere that we do not know about.
Now I know that these clowns make great news coverage and that news travels great distances when used by a politician as a scare tactic, but are they really worth more than a good chuckle at best? Anyone can tell you a story about a bad cop or perhaps a teacher or priest, you know that yourself. But do you think that either one of those groups wants to keep that clown within their group anymore then we truckers want to keep our brand of clown within our own group. I think not. No one wants connection with this type of black eye yet we all have to live with the tarnished image they leave behind as they do whatever it is they end up doing.
I wish I knew a good answer to never having anyone in my particular group giving the rest of us a black eye. I'm not sure there really is one. On the right day in the wrong moment, any one of us conceivably has the potential to be caught with our britches down. I've come close a time or two myself. Live long enough and sooner or later it will happen. What we can do though is understand that one bad clown does not make all the rest of the clowns bad people. No one wants a bad actor in a group giving the rest of them a black eye and this goes for police all the way to truckers. Not one group out there is immune to this.
I guess all we can do is realize that people will be people and from time to time, they will be a clown that gives the rest of us a black eye. Chuckle about it sure, why not. But to let one clown give all the other hard working decent people in that group a black eye, I think not. To many of us work way to hard in our own groups to allow just one clown to mess up our image. Let's not let them screw up the hard work and dedication put in by the majority no matter what group that clown comes from.
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Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Flip Flops And EOBRs
Today's Thoughts 6/19/12 Flip Flops And EOBRs
By Jeff Head
I was talking with a friend this morning and as usual, the topic always turns to something trucking; electric in board recorders (EOBR) once again. As we were talking, they related to me that someone had accused them of flip-flopping on their stance on EOBRs even though that stance had never changed. I'm thinking to myself, so? I used to be all for them and my stance has changed so that now I think not so much anymore. Did I flip-flop? You bet I did.
Does that make me a bad person? I would think not. I'm not sure where I heard this but it has stuck with me for a while now. "When I was a child, I thought like a child. Then when I became a man, I thought like a man." How true that was or still is I guess. Can you imagine going through life and never changing you outlook on anything? I sure could not do it; I did not do it on the EOBR issue. I would hope I would be commended for having an open mind and the ability to think and reason things out for myself. To be able listen to reasonable arguments on any other subject as well. Then after doing so, after taking the time for further investigation and learning a little through real life experience as I grow older, be able to re-making a more informed decision on any subject.
That’s how I came to flip-flop on the EOBR issue. I understand the need for them but as time went on and I started hearing how companies using them were actually using them to force drivers to drive when they were tired. Then I was hearing stories about companies going in and changing the entries so that drivers would have more hours to drive. This was no different than the paper logs were accept for the fact that now, with the company having the ability to change things, the driver could be forced to drive tired by the company. At least with the paper logs, a driver can cheat according to their own instinct and ability as to how far they could safely go.
I learned and I lived life a little longer and became a little smarter and yes, I, the great me, flip-flopped on a very important subject, EOBRs, I am no longer for them. I would hope that with time and experience that I am able to learn and be humble enough to flip-flop on other important issues also. No one should live by the same values of life that they had as a child. That would be silly if you ask me. You should grow as a person and keep an open mind so that not only can you change with life, but be able to change life with the knowledge and experience that you gain as you travel through it.
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By Jeff Head
I was talking with a friend this morning and as usual, the topic always turns to something trucking; electric in board recorders (EOBR) once again. As we were talking, they related to me that someone had accused them of flip-flopping on their stance on EOBRs even though that stance had never changed. I'm thinking to myself, so? I used to be all for them and my stance has changed so that now I think not so much anymore. Did I flip-flop? You bet I did.
Does that make me a bad person? I would think not. I'm not sure where I heard this but it has stuck with me for a while now. "When I was a child, I thought like a child. Then when I became a man, I thought like a man." How true that was or still is I guess. Can you imagine going through life and never changing you outlook on anything? I sure could not do it; I did not do it on the EOBR issue. I would hope I would be commended for having an open mind and the ability to think and reason things out for myself. To be able listen to reasonable arguments on any other subject as well. Then after doing so, after taking the time for further investigation and learning a little through real life experience as I grow older, be able to re-making a more informed decision on any subject.
That’s how I came to flip-flop on the EOBR issue. I understand the need for them but as time went on and I started hearing how companies using them were actually using them to force drivers to drive when they were tired. Then I was hearing stories about companies going in and changing the entries so that drivers would have more hours to drive. This was no different than the paper logs were accept for the fact that now, with the company having the ability to change things, the driver could be forced to drive tired by the company. At least with the paper logs, a driver can cheat according to their own instinct and ability as to how far they could safely go.
I learned and I lived life a little longer and became a little smarter and yes, I, the great me, flip-flopped on a very important subject, EOBRs, I am no longer for them. I would hope that with time and experience that I am able to learn and be humble enough to flip-flop on other important issues also. No one should live by the same values of life that they had as a child. That would be silly if you ask me. You should grow as a person and keep an open mind so that not only can you change with life, but be able to change life with the knowledge and experience that you gain as you travel through it.
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Saturday, June 16, 2012
Train Train
Today's Thoughts Train Train
By Jeff Head
Chapter Twelve - Train Train (Excerpt From running Legal Blues)
When I woke up, the sun was starting to get low in the sky, I had dozed off thinking about the doctor stuff. I still had about an hour of day light left, I was sweating, and I had been dreaming about the day last week on the highway where I met that little girl from the accident. The events were still bothering me and I knew it, I could still hear that scream as if I was still standing there. What I did not know was how to get over it. It seemed to me that I had tried to change over the years and become a responsible driver, but each change, every attempt to do the right thing seemed to piss someone else off. Drivers were, I think, the worst of all.
A few chapters ago I showed you a letter I wrote about driving on Two-Eighty-Five around Atlanta, Georgia; and how some drivers would act against other drivers that they did not think were doing right on the highway? Things were not always like that, though.
I can remember back when I first started driving a truck. There was courtesy between drivers then, honor among thieves as I always heard it put. Drivers were taught this as they came into the industry back then. All night long, we would come across country, in long convoys; truck after truck seventy plus miles an hour. The CB radio wide-open telling jokes and looking for bear (cops). If nothing else, it kept us awake for the long runs we would be on.
I can still remember the thrill of the first time I was the lead truck, coming out of Texas headed back east into Georgia, one night. I started out of Laredo, Texas around eight in the morning and had just twenty-four hours to make a delivery in Georgia. That load of pottery I had on was needed bad at the store, Spring was starting in just a few days and the big sale just could not be put off. My head was just a little fuzzy because, well, because of Boy’s Town.; that's a place just over the border in Mexico. Drivers, while at the truck stop in Laredo, could just call out on the CB and catch a ride with one of several different people that provided rides down to Boy's Town.
It was always a fun place to go, lots of beer, liquor; and, of course, the senoritas to play with. I always thought the rumors about the donkey were made up, until a few of my friends showed me one night. I just stuck with the beer mostly, like I said, I'm happily married and to this day, still plan on staying that way.
Anyway, the first thing you hit coming north on Interstate Thirty-Five out of Laredo is the Border Patrol check station. To this day, it's still the same. You pull up; they ask if you are an American. You say yes and off you go. Every now and then, you would see someone pulled over, their truck opened up and the dogs going crazy. Better luck next time, dude. Border Patrol got lucky again and some poor chap is going to jail. That's his problem, and I'm off towards San Antonio then on to Houston.
By the time I got there, I was three hundred and fifty miles into the run and I had not stopped yet. About four of us were heading east across Interstate Ten, into the Atlanta area, all of us had next day deliveries. The chat on the CB was all normal stuff, where is the bear, and check out those legs. That's something I don't think I'll ever complain about, girls that like to pull up next to truckers and show off their legs and other things as well. The way I see it, if they want me to look, who am I to let them down. I think I've seen more skin on the highway than I ever did in the bedroom over the years.
Eyes on the road man, eyes on the road. After Houston, it's just a short hop over to my fueling spot in Beaumont, Texas. I pull up to the fuel pumps and pick up a hundred and fifty gallons or so of diesel, then find a spot to park while I run in and get a quick shower. I lose sight of the guys I'm running with for a while. I know where they are, Party Row picking up there supplies while I get my candy bars and soda pops from inside the truck stop.
Forty-five minutes later and we head for the Louisiana line, there are six of us now. We head towards Lake Charles, then Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Then we turn north on Interstate Fifty-Nine into Meridian, Mississippi. There we stop for a couple of hours while we flirt with the waitresses and fill up on coffee. There was about fifteen of us now and when we headed out, I was the lead truck. From Meridian, it's about four hundred miles to my destination through Birmingham, Alabama and on into Georgia. When we crossed over that Georgia line, around four in the morning, eighty plus miles per hour, we were strung out over twenty-five trucks long. That CB was so hot that even if we did run across a bear, no one would have known it. I bumped the dock at my destination around six thirty in the morning. Twenty-two hours or so and twelve hundred miles later, I was done.
The thing about the way we used to run back then is, even in packs like that, no matter what the speed or how big the hurry, you took time to be courteous, even to four wheelers. If you came up on traffic that was caught up behind slower traffic, you stepped on your brakes and let them out so they could pass.
Drivers would look out for other drivers. If one broke down, five or six would stop and bring out the spare parts to get them going again. We used to be known as the Knights of the Highway; used to be anyway. When someone asked for directions on the CB, they got them, but not anymore. Somewhere over the years, the camaraderie in the trucking industry got lost. Sure, you can still find groups that run together, but it's just not like it used to be. Today, you best not be caught in the way of someone or they might just push you off the highway.
I found out the hard way about this change. I had long ago decided to run legally. I tried very hard to accept loads where I could make the delivery, while keeping the logbook straight. I had to change the way I thought on just about everything. Slowing down to the speed limit meant that I could no longer run as many miles each week. Definitely, no more of those twelve hundred mile trips over night, bad for the logbook you see.
If one watches the freight rate, makes changes to his truck and the way he drives, then those things brings about better fuel economy instead of a faster speed and harder pull. Then one can make the same amount of profit, if not more, than by blowing the fuel out your stack every night trying to run as many miles as you could in a week. This is what I learned, as time went on. Why was I breaking every law in the book, not to mention my back twice, when by just slowing down and following the laws as they were, I could not only increase my profit, but in the process, take better care of myself and my family.
Why I couldn't, came from several different directions. The loudest was other drivers. The plain, simple fact is that other truck drivers do not, I repeat; do not have time to run safe and legal. They are in no way shy about letting you know that fact. I used to try and talk to them on the CB. Trucks are allowed in the two right lanes, usually. Drivers would come up behind a driver in the second lane running the speed limit, and just about a second later, it would begin.
"Hey Driver, slower traffic keep right." The fact that I would be passing slower traffic and would be doing the speed limit didn't seem to matter. Trying to talk to them, letting them know I would move over just as soon as the right lane cleared was a big mistake. Just made them madder because I would not slow down and get behind the people I was trying to pass. Time and time again, I've been told that the speed limit signs are just suggestions, then being taunted, like we were in the third grade. "Oh, He's just scared a bear is going to pop out from behind that bridge and give him a ticket," they would scream over the radio.
The fact is, as I see it, I have just as much right to run the speed limit in any lane a truck is allowed, as anyone else has a right to run in it. Why, pray tell, do some drivers think that just because they want to run fifteen miles per hour over, that they have the right to push everyone else off the highway? That's a big change from the way we used to run twenty years ago. Instead of being courteous and waiting for traffic to clear, now drivers will taunt and tease you until you finally get a clear lane to move into and let them get around you. I still don't understand why they just don't use the third lane. They actually believe that a bear cannot tell they are speeding if they stay in the second lane, I guess.
Trying to talk to them ended for me on one particular day. I had moved over to let some traffic get on. A few more cars piled in on my right side getting ready to get off at the next ramp, so I was not able to get back over into the right lane, I was running the speed limit, though. A couple of drivers came up behind me and starting screaming for me to move over so they could go by, they had no time for such nonsense. The exit came and a few cars jumped off but one remained, and stayed right beside me. A few more cars jumped onto the highway, on the other side of the get on ramp; and I was stuck out in the second lane. What could I do? I was running the speed limit, and the four wheelers would not get off my side. I picked up the CB and said I would move over as soon as I got a clear lane.
The answer I got back was definitely not what I wanted to hear. "I ain't got time for this shit. I'll teach that S.O.B. how to get out of the way!" The truck behind me jumped out into the third lane. He shot me a bird as he went by and as the rear of his trailer came even with my driver's door, he made a hard right turn. I’ve got three cars on my right side, and this idiot is giving driving lessons to me. I have no choice, I have to move over or die. The three cars beside me wind up spinning down through the grass, and I end up locking it up in the emergency lane. "MOTHER F***…" Did he just do that?” He's laughing at me going on down the highway. The three four wheelers that went down through the grass are shouting out the window at me calling me every name in the book, and I'm like, "What the hell did I do, besides the freaking speed limit?"
I wish I could tell you that this was the first and last time this has happened to me. Not even close. I yelled back at that idiot, "Excuse the hell out of me for being an idiot that runs the speed limit you *&#(!." With a few four letter words added in from him and then he was gone.
I was shaken up, but I needed to get off the side of that busy highway. As I did, another driver came on the CB. He said, "Hey hand." Hand is what you might call another driver in CB lingo. "Hey hand," he said again, "That driver that's an idiot for running the speed limit." I was pissed. I answered. “Well”, I screamed back, "What do you want?" He said in the calmest voice I think I ever heard on the radio. "I'm one of those idiots that insist on running the speed limit too, it's going to be okay hand" Silence.
What was I supposed to have said? My emotions were running wild and in steps this calm voice from nowhere. Finally, after about a minute I replied back, "Thanks man, thanks, Have a nice day."
I waited a minute; but he never came back to me. I reached up, and for the last time, turned off my CB radio. To this day, unless I know you, or something is happening on the road, I refuse to turn on the CB radio.
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By Jeff Head
Chapter Twelve - Train Train (Excerpt From running Legal Blues)
When I woke up, the sun was starting to get low in the sky, I had dozed off thinking about the doctor stuff. I still had about an hour of day light left, I was sweating, and I had been dreaming about the day last week on the highway where I met that little girl from the accident. The events were still bothering me and I knew it, I could still hear that scream as if I was still standing there. What I did not know was how to get over it. It seemed to me that I had tried to change over the years and become a responsible driver, but each change, every attempt to do the right thing seemed to piss someone else off. Drivers were, I think, the worst of all.
A few chapters ago I showed you a letter I wrote about driving on Two-Eighty-Five around Atlanta, Georgia; and how some drivers would act against other drivers that they did not think were doing right on the highway? Things were not always like that, though.
I can remember back when I first started driving a truck. There was courtesy between drivers then, honor among thieves as I always heard it put. Drivers were taught this as they came into the industry back then. All night long, we would come across country, in long convoys; truck after truck seventy plus miles an hour. The CB radio wide-open telling jokes and looking for bear (cops). If nothing else, it kept us awake for the long runs we would be on.
I can still remember the thrill of the first time I was the lead truck, coming out of Texas headed back east into Georgia, one night. I started out of Laredo, Texas around eight in the morning and had just twenty-four hours to make a delivery in Georgia. That load of pottery I had on was needed bad at the store, Spring was starting in just a few days and the big sale just could not be put off. My head was just a little fuzzy because, well, because of Boy’s Town.; that's a place just over the border in Mexico. Drivers, while at the truck stop in Laredo, could just call out on the CB and catch a ride with one of several different people that provided rides down to Boy's Town.
It was always a fun place to go, lots of beer, liquor; and, of course, the senoritas to play with. I always thought the rumors about the donkey were made up, until a few of my friends showed me one night. I just stuck with the beer mostly, like I said, I'm happily married and to this day, still plan on staying that way.
Anyway, the first thing you hit coming north on Interstate Thirty-Five out of Laredo is the Border Patrol check station. To this day, it's still the same. You pull up; they ask if you are an American. You say yes and off you go. Every now and then, you would see someone pulled over, their truck opened up and the dogs going crazy. Better luck next time, dude. Border Patrol got lucky again and some poor chap is going to jail. That's his problem, and I'm off towards San Antonio then on to Houston.
By the time I got there, I was three hundred and fifty miles into the run and I had not stopped yet. About four of us were heading east across Interstate Ten, into the Atlanta area, all of us had next day deliveries. The chat on the CB was all normal stuff, where is the bear, and check out those legs. That's something I don't think I'll ever complain about, girls that like to pull up next to truckers and show off their legs and other things as well. The way I see it, if they want me to look, who am I to let them down. I think I've seen more skin on the highway than I ever did in the bedroom over the years.
Eyes on the road man, eyes on the road. After Houston, it's just a short hop over to my fueling spot in Beaumont, Texas. I pull up to the fuel pumps and pick up a hundred and fifty gallons or so of diesel, then find a spot to park while I run in and get a quick shower. I lose sight of the guys I'm running with for a while. I know where they are, Party Row picking up there supplies while I get my candy bars and soda pops from inside the truck stop.
Forty-five minutes later and we head for the Louisiana line, there are six of us now. We head towards Lake Charles, then Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Then we turn north on Interstate Fifty-Nine into Meridian, Mississippi. There we stop for a couple of hours while we flirt with the waitresses and fill up on coffee. There was about fifteen of us now and when we headed out, I was the lead truck. From Meridian, it's about four hundred miles to my destination through Birmingham, Alabama and on into Georgia. When we crossed over that Georgia line, around four in the morning, eighty plus miles per hour, we were strung out over twenty-five trucks long. That CB was so hot that even if we did run across a bear, no one would have known it. I bumped the dock at my destination around six thirty in the morning. Twenty-two hours or so and twelve hundred miles later, I was done.
The thing about the way we used to run back then is, even in packs like that, no matter what the speed or how big the hurry, you took time to be courteous, even to four wheelers. If you came up on traffic that was caught up behind slower traffic, you stepped on your brakes and let them out so they could pass.
Drivers would look out for other drivers. If one broke down, five or six would stop and bring out the spare parts to get them going again. We used to be known as the Knights of the Highway; used to be anyway. When someone asked for directions on the CB, they got them, but not anymore. Somewhere over the years, the camaraderie in the trucking industry got lost. Sure, you can still find groups that run together, but it's just not like it used to be. Today, you best not be caught in the way of someone or they might just push you off the highway.
I found out the hard way about this change. I had long ago decided to run legally. I tried very hard to accept loads where I could make the delivery, while keeping the logbook straight. I had to change the way I thought on just about everything. Slowing down to the speed limit meant that I could no longer run as many miles each week. Definitely, no more of those twelve hundred mile trips over night, bad for the logbook you see.
If one watches the freight rate, makes changes to his truck and the way he drives, then those things brings about better fuel economy instead of a faster speed and harder pull. Then one can make the same amount of profit, if not more, than by blowing the fuel out your stack every night trying to run as many miles as you could in a week. This is what I learned, as time went on. Why was I breaking every law in the book, not to mention my back twice, when by just slowing down and following the laws as they were, I could not only increase my profit, but in the process, take better care of myself and my family.
Why I couldn't, came from several different directions. The loudest was other drivers. The plain, simple fact is that other truck drivers do not, I repeat; do not have time to run safe and legal. They are in no way shy about letting you know that fact. I used to try and talk to them on the CB. Trucks are allowed in the two right lanes, usually. Drivers would come up behind a driver in the second lane running the speed limit, and just about a second later, it would begin.
"Hey Driver, slower traffic keep right." The fact that I would be passing slower traffic and would be doing the speed limit didn't seem to matter. Trying to talk to them, letting them know I would move over just as soon as the right lane cleared was a big mistake. Just made them madder because I would not slow down and get behind the people I was trying to pass. Time and time again, I've been told that the speed limit signs are just suggestions, then being taunted, like we were in the third grade. "Oh, He's just scared a bear is going to pop out from behind that bridge and give him a ticket," they would scream over the radio.
The fact is, as I see it, I have just as much right to run the speed limit in any lane a truck is allowed, as anyone else has a right to run in it. Why, pray tell, do some drivers think that just because they want to run fifteen miles per hour over, that they have the right to push everyone else off the highway? That's a big change from the way we used to run twenty years ago. Instead of being courteous and waiting for traffic to clear, now drivers will taunt and tease you until you finally get a clear lane to move into and let them get around you. I still don't understand why they just don't use the third lane. They actually believe that a bear cannot tell they are speeding if they stay in the second lane, I guess.
Trying to talk to them ended for me on one particular day. I had moved over to let some traffic get on. A few more cars piled in on my right side getting ready to get off at the next ramp, so I was not able to get back over into the right lane, I was running the speed limit, though. A couple of drivers came up behind me and starting screaming for me to move over so they could go by, they had no time for such nonsense. The exit came and a few cars jumped off but one remained, and stayed right beside me. A few more cars jumped onto the highway, on the other side of the get on ramp; and I was stuck out in the second lane. What could I do? I was running the speed limit, and the four wheelers would not get off my side. I picked up the CB and said I would move over as soon as I got a clear lane.
The answer I got back was definitely not what I wanted to hear. "I ain't got time for this shit. I'll teach that S.O.B. how to get out of the way!" The truck behind me jumped out into the third lane. He shot me a bird as he went by and as the rear of his trailer came even with my driver's door, he made a hard right turn. I’ve got three cars on my right side, and this idiot is giving driving lessons to me. I have no choice, I have to move over or die. The three cars beside me wind up spinning down through the grass, and I end up locking it up in the emergency lane. "MOTHER F***…" Did he just do that?” He's laughing at me going on down the highway. The three four wheelers that went down through the grass are shouting out the window at me calling me every name in the book, and I'm like, "What the hell did I do, besides the freaking speed limit?"
I wish I could tell you that this was the first and last time this has happened to me. Not even close. I yelled back at that idiot, "Excuse the hell out of me for being an idiot that runs the speed limit you *&#(!." With a few four letter words added in from him and then he was gone.
I was shaken up, but I needed to get off the side of that busy highway. As I did, another driver came on the CB. He said, "Hey hand." Hand is what you might call another driver in CB lingo. "Hey hand," he said again, "That driver that's an idiot for running the speed limit." I was pissed. I answered. “Well”, I screamed back, "What do you want?" He said in the calmest voice I think I ever heard on the radio. "I'm one of those idiots that insist on running the speed limit too, it's going to be okay hand" Silence.
What was I supposed to have said? My emotions were running wild and in steps this calm voice from nowhere. Finally, after about a minute I replied back, "Thanks man, thanks, Have a nice day."
I waited a minute; but he never came back to me. I reached up, and for the last time, turned off my CB radio. To this day, unless I know you, or something is happening on the road, I refuse to turn on the CB radio.
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Monday, June 11, 2012
Speaking Out
Today's Thoughts 6/11/12 Speaking Out
By Jeff Head
I woke up last night, I guess it was around three in the morning and for some odd reason it hit me that we as a nation are about to go through another election. Of course, we all have our own opinion as to who should win that election and as you know, some of us will be happy with the outcome while others of us will not. Regardless though, the heads of many of our federal entities will change with time, the FMCSA included. Why that is important to us truckers is that after years of working and finally getting that top person to understand what we as truckers need to stay safe and legal out here on the road; they simply change out the guard and we have to start the process all over again. Again that is with a new lead person that has their own ideas and agendas as to what a good little trucker should be.
This is going to happen repeatedly through the years and it is exactly why I think we need to speak out not only to the heads of the entities that regulate us as truckers, but also the same general public that elects the politicians that puts them there. As you sit back and think about how the process works outside of trucking, you will see politicians and news papers using "Goobledygook," as Sandy Long would put it, about the trucking industry to fire up the public and gain votes and power using us truckers as stepping stones to their goals. However, as I have found over the years, as I speak out with my stories about my personal experience and goals as a safe and legal trucker to the public, speaking outside of the trucking industry so to say, I find that people are amazed and intrigued at what is really going on in the industry. Amazed at just how many of us truckers are busting our butts to run safe and legal despite what they have been taught to think about us.
This is the very reason that I choose to write as I write. I am not trying to tell a bunch of truckers who are becoming everyday more an industry that leads the fight to be able to run safe and legal what to do. No, what I try to do is write in a way that makes it interesting for the general public and people that regulate us to see that there are thousands of safe and legal truck drivers out here and that we need their help in fighting those that make it difficult in doing just that, run safe and legal. Even if that fight means fighting the very politicians and entities that tell them every day what outlaws we are. In short, as they teach them what they need to know to hate us, we need to teach them what they need to know to help us.
In this way, as the leads change up on the hill, the people we share the highway with can help us debunk the Goobledygook before it even starts. I know from personal experience the feedback that I have received from my efforts has led to changes in some attitudes about us truckers. Now when they see a truck out on the road or here a killer truck story, they take a second look to see if that trucker is actually trying to be safe and legal instead of just writing all truckers off as renegades before getting all the facts. This makes a big difference when it comes time for them to get involved and relate to their representatives about how truckers should be dealt with out in the real world. It makes a big difference when a Law Officer knocks on your door and they have met a few truckers in the past that actually try to do it right.
We have two choices as I see it. We can continue to allow others to teach how we should be seen or we can take it upon ourselves to step out and teach the fact that we as drivers are trying our best to get this right. That we have just as much interest in keeping those highways safe as any other American out there does. After all, not only is the highway our workplace, but our families use that same highway also. No way do I want some renegade sleepy truck driver next to my loved ones either. That is why I believe it is my first and foremost job to keep the people I share the road with alive, to keep your family safe, the freight comes a distant second.
I think it is time that more people realized just how we truckers really feel about this. No one is going to tell them unless we do it ourselves. To do this, you are more than welcome to share any of my stories or even better, come up with your own. What matters is that we start speaking outside of our own industry and speak to the same people that the politicians and other entities are speaking with for their own profit. For us to actually get our side of things out there and understood so that we can take yet another step in keeping the highways safe for all of us that shares them.
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By Jeff Head
I woke up last night, I guess it was around three in the morning and for some odd reason it hit me that we as a nation are about to go through another election. Of course, we all have our own opinion as to who should win that election and as you know, some of us will be happy with the outcome while others of us will not. Regardless though, the heads of many of our federal entities will change with time, the FMCSA included. Why that is important to us truckers is that after years of working and finally getting that top person to understand what we as truckers need to stay safe and legal out here on the road; they simply change out the guard and we have to start the process all over again. Again that is with a new lead person that has their own ideas and agendas as to what a good little trucker should be.
This is going to happen repeatedly through the years and it is exactly why I think we need to speak out not only to the heads of the entities that regulate us as truckers, but also the same general public that elects the politicians that puts them there. As you sit back and think about how the process works outside of trucking, you will see politicians and news papers using "Goobledygook," as Sandy Long would put it, about the trucking industry to fire up the public and gain votes and power using us truckers as stepping stones to their goals. However, as I have found over the years, as I speak out with my stories about my personal experience and goals as a safe and legal trucker to the public, speaking outside of the trucking industry so to say, I find that people are amazed and intrigued at what is really going on in the industry. Amazed at just how many of us truckers are busting our butts to run safe and legal despite what they have been taught to think about us.
This is the very reason that I choose to write as I write. I am not trying to tell a bunch of truckers who are becoming everyday more an industry that leads the fight to be able to run safe and legal what to do. No, what I try to do is write in a way that makes it interesting for the general public and people that regulate us to see that there are thousands of safe and legal truck drivers out here and that we need their help in fighting those that make it difficult in doing just that, run safe and legal. Even if that fight means fighting the very politicians and entities that tell them every day what outlaws we are. In short, as they teach them what they need to know to hate us, we need to teach them what they need to know to help us.
In this way, as the leads change up on the hill, the people we share the highway with can help us debunk the Goobledygook before it even starts. I know from personal experience the feedback that I have received from my efforts has led to changes in some attitudes about us truckers. Now when they see a truck out on the road or here a killer truck story, they take a second look to see if that trucker is actually trying to be safe and legal instead of just writing all truckers off as renegades before getting all the facts. This makes a big difference when it comes time for them to get involved and relate to their representatives about how truckers should be dealt with out in the real world. It makes a big difference when a Law Officer knocks on your door and they have met a few truckers in the past that actually try to do it right.
We have two choices as I see it. We can continue to allow others to teach how we should be seen or we can take it upon ourselves to step out and teach the fact that we as drivers are trying our best to get this right. That we have just as much interest in keeping those highways safe as any other American out there does. After all, not only is the highway our workplace, but our families use that same highway also. No way do I want some renegade sleepy truck driver next to my loved ones either. That is why I believe it is my first and foremost job to keep the people I share the road with alive, to keep your family safe, the freight comes a distant second.
I think it is time that more people realized just how we truckers really feel about this. No one is going to tell them unless we do it ourselves. To do this, you are more than welcome to share any of my stories or even better, come up with your own. What matters is that we start speaking outside of our own industry and speak to the same people that the politicians and other entities are speaking with for their own profit. For us to actually get our side of things out there and understood so that we can take yet another step in keeping the highways safe for all of us that shares them.
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Thursday, June 7, 2012
Guns And Big Trucks
Today's Thoughts 6/7/12 Guns And Big Trucks
By Jeff Head
The same just in case you did not notice, the way they talk about guns and truckers that is. Did you ever notice that the people that do not like guns only report and slash about the bad numbers concerning guns? You know, yada yada number of people were killed by some kind of gun last year and that is why we need to regulate or ban them right out of existence. Somehow, you never hear about how many lives were saved by the proper and legal use of a gun. Nope, that number never seems to make it into the process.
The same thing with trucks if you think about it. Yada yada number of people were killed by trucks last year. Ok, I am game. Anyone want to take a guess at how lives were saved last year by the professional actions of professional truck drivers? Just like guns, the true number will never be known. Most people will not inform the police that they drew their pistol to save their life just like a trucker does not report every time they maneuver their truck to save the life of some driver that probably never even realized they came within seconds of death.
Maybe we should start doing just that. Informing the FMCSA and other entities that seem to think we are out here to kill as many people as we can each day just how many times each day we save a life. Just make up a form, fill it out with details and send it to them at the end of each week. Just guessing at it but I bet the numbers will soon prove that we trucks are doing our jobs when it comes to highway safety. They will never admit it I am sure, but what the heck, it will give them something to read other then the funnies.
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By Jeff Head
The same just in case you did not notice, the way they talk about guns and truckers that is. Did you ever notice that the people that do not like guns only report and slash about the bad numbers concerning guns? You know, yada yada number of people were killed by some kind of gun last year and that is why we need to regulate or ban them right out of existence. Somehow, you never hear about how many lives were saved by the proper and legal use of a gun. Nope, that number never seems to make it into the process.
The same thing with trucks if you think about it. Yada yada number of people were killed by trucks last year. Ok, I am game. Anyone want to take a guess at how lives were saved last year by the professional actions of professional truck drivers? Just like guns, the true number will never be known. Most people will not inform the police that they drew their pistol to save their life just like a trucker does not report every time they maneuver their truck to save the life of some driver that probably never even realized they came within seconds of death.
Maybe we should start doing just that. Informing the FMCSA and other entities that seem to think we are out here to kill as many people as we can each day just how many times each day we save a life. Just make up a form, fill it out with details and send it to them at the end of each week. Just guessing at it but I bet the numbers will soon prove that we trucks are doing our jobs when it comes to highway safety. They will never admit it I am sure, but what the heck, it will give them something to read other then the funnies.
Be sure to add me as a friend if you like "Today's Thoughts"
Copy and share as much as you want (-:
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