Bruce A. Borders: February 2013

Monday, February 25, 2013

My Winter Rule

Yay! Winter is almost over! Only four more days left!

Yes I know, technically, winter lasts until March 21st, but you see, I have a rule: no more snow, icy roads, or extreme cold after February. And since 2013 isn’t a leap year, that leaves just four more days. And I’m very glad. As I’ve mentioned on numerous occasions, I do not like winter. I could blame my dislike on the fact that I drive a semi nearly 600 miles a day, but the truth is, even if I didn’t, I still wouldn’t like it. Never did. Too cold, wet, and snowy. By this time of year, I’m really sick of it all. Thus, the rule.

My wife tells me I do not get to make the rules concerning the duration of winter but I disagree. I’ve had this rule for quite a few years, fifteen in fact, and not once during that time have I had to drive my semi on bad roads after February - it’s never even snowed! So apparently, I do get to make the rules. Of course, it may help that fifteen years ago, I moved to a milder climate - one where winter weather is usually over by mid-February.

I realize that by writing this blog I’m probably jinxing things. March 2013 will now become known as “that one winter.” That one winter that set a new record for snowfall. And freezing temperatures. That one winter that extended through the middle of April. That one winter that everyone remembers as the worst winter - for the entire region.

And that brings up a problem. Obviously, such a long winter would break my rule. But I’m not exactly sure what I could do about it. It’s not like I’m actually the boss of well, anything but especially, the weather. That would be God and I’m pretty sure He gets to do what He wants. He doesn’t generally check with me on these matters. Okay, He never checks with me on these matters. That’s all right. I really do not expect Him to.

I suppose then, my “rule” is more of a hopeful wish than any sort of requirement. And in light of that, I should really be thankful to live where my “rule” has prevailed for the last fifteen years. And I am.

Hey! Wait a second. What is that white stuff falling from the sky? Snow? Yep, it’s snowing on me. It wasn’t when I started writing this. “Time to kick off the cruise,” I mutter to myself as I blow out an exasperated sigh.

The good news is: there are only four more days of winter. Maybe.

Bruce A. Borders, author and songwriter, has over 500 songs and more than a dozen books. Over My Dead Body, The Journey, and Miscarriage Of Justice, his latest books, are available on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. Now also available in print at many online retailers or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. The popular Wynn Garrett Series Books are now available on Barnes And Noble® at http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/?series_id=867526 See Bruce’s Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders

Monday, February 18, 2013

These Boots Are Made For Walking

At forty-five years of age, I thought I was done walking - well, not literally done, as in never to walk again. Done with walking long distances - you know, no farther than from the house to the pickup or, from the pickup into a store. Apparently however, I needed a little more exercise than I was getting.

A couple of weeks ago, I took my pickup in for some repairs. I was supposed to have it back that afternoon. With my wife at work, and not a single one of my three children around to give me a ride (since they ALL moved out) I walked home. It wasn’t that far actually; the walk took exactly eleven minutes. Later that afternoon, although the shop hadn’t called to say the truck was ready, I walked back. Another eleven minutes - for nothing as it turns out because they were not finished. It would be another couple of hours, they said. So, back to the house I went - walking.

Waiting patiently (as patiently as can be expected from a very impatient guy) for the time to pass, I returned to the shop - again, on foot. And again, the pickup wasn’t ready. And to make things worse, they’d found other issues that needed to be addressed. To fix it would take a couple of days. Okay, looks like I’m walking one more time, I thought. By now I was up to fifty-five minutes. For a guy not used to walking much, it might as well have been fifty-five hours! I was getting a little tired to say the least. But, as I discovered in the next few days, my legs were just getting broken in.

Down to only one vehicle, my wife and I learned to share. Since we work opposite shifts, her in the morning (like a normal person) and me at night, it wasn’t that hard - although, quite inconvenient. She had no car at night and I had none during the day. Which meant, if I wanted to go anywhere, it was back to my primary mode of transportation (as my son refers to it) my feet. I lost track of the trips - and the minutes - but for the last couple of weeks, I have done more walking than any one person should have to endure!

I do have the pickup back now. The guy from the repair shop called the other day to say it was finished. Finally! All I needed to do was go pick it up. Great. Just one little problem though, my wife was at work and with no kids at home (Did I mention they ALL have moved out? I’m not bummed about it or anything) the only way to get there was to walk. Then came the surprise. After two weeks, I was a little more in shape. Apparently, all my walking had done some good - the trip took only nine minutes!

To be fair, either of my kids who live in town, as well as my wife, would have given me a ride - if I had asked. And in reality, they did run me around quite a bit. But they are busy so I tried not to ask. Besides, at forty-five years of age, I would’ve thought I was done asking for rides.

Monday, February 11, 2013

Stupid Drivers

Here’s a little known fact about me - I don’t always root for the so-called “right” side to win. Okay, I usually don’t root for the right side and it’s probably well-known, particularly when the situation involves stupid people.

Last week, I was making my last run of the week in my semi. The time was around 2:00 in the morning. Not a lot of traffic is on the road at that time and its normally peaceful - the most uneventful part of my run. Not this night.

I was approaching another semi-truck and I moved over to the left lane to pass. As I pulled even with the truck, in my mirror, I saw the headlights of a car, and it was gaining fast. I continued passing the truck, which took a minute or two. By this time, the car was riding my bumper. The driver, apparently anxious to get around, began flashing his lights back and forth from bright to dim. Not being able to speed up, even if I had wanted to, I waited patiently for the truck driver to flash his lights, signaling that I had cleared him, and then I moved back into the right lane. Once my trailer was out of the left lane, the driver of the car sped up, quickly passing me. I figured with the hurry he was in he’d soon be out of sight. Then, his stupidity gene kicked in.

Instead of going on down the road as a normal person would do, the guy thought it’d be a good idea to play chicken with a semi at 60 mph! He pulled to the center of the freeway so his car blocked both lanes, and hit the brakes - hard. Now, this happens quite a bit to truck drivers and so I was prepared for it. I hit the brakes and the Jake came on slowing me down. Generally, once a stupid driver has made their point that I’ve slowed them down, they speed up again and that’s the end of it. Not this guy. He slowed down even more, still riding the centerline.

Rather than hit him, or play dangerous games on the freeway, (a game that I can easily win, but then lose my job) I kept slowing down. Our speed was now about 30 mph.

The guy in the semi behind me had seen what was going on and being an independent driver must have had no worries about losing his job. And, as he later said on the CB, he really didn’t like stupid people. He pulled to the left lane and accelerated, passing me and continuing on toward the car. Apparently, the guy in the car was too busy watching me because he didn’t move as the truck raced toward him. The road we were on had only about a one-foot shoulder on the left side and when I discovered the truck driver had no intention of slowing down and nowhere to go, I started backing off as fast as I could, waiting for the crash.

The car swerved suddenly to the right and at first I thought the truck had hit it, but I saw no flying pieces of plastic and metal. I realized the driver had jerked the wheel. Evidently, he’d finally seen the big truck bearing down on him. Then, I had another worry, as it appeared the car was going to flip right in front of me. It made several swerves but somehow the driver managed to get it under control. I pulled to the left lane and passed the now very slowly moving car. The other semi was well down the road. A minute or so later, the car speeded up and passed both of us, disappearing into the night.

This story has a good ending; no one got hurt or killed, no one was involved in a wreck, and no one (namely me) got fired. But for a few tense moments, the possibility of all the above was present.

The ordeal had lasted only a minute or so and as I watched the scene play out in slow motion, I had one clear thought. Although I knew what would happen if there were a crash, and knew the truck driver would be at fault in any altercation, I was still rooting for the truck. I don’t really like stupid drivers either!

Monday, February 4, 2013

A Wandering Mind

As a truck driver, I have a lot of time to think. Sometimes my thinking is productive, other times not so much. Sometimes I end up wasting a lot of time just thinking in circles. Okay, a lot of the time I do that. I’ll give you a little glimpse at a typical train of thought, which I’ll call the thoughts of a wondering mind, or wandering mind. This meandering of thought takes place in the form of questions and reasoning away those questions with sound answers - maybe. Ready?

When we’re looking for a parking space why do we say we’re circling or going around the block? Blocks are not round. And why is it called a “round” of applause? Handclapping doesn’t form a geometrical shape. And that’s another thing, why is someone whose body has good form said to be “in shape?” We don’t specify what shape, so it could be any shape. I think a body is in the shape of, well, a body. Whether that body is physically fit shouldn’t matter. Unless of course, someone throws a fit over it. But that doesn’t really make sense either; one does not have to actually throw something to have a temper tantrum. I do know when babies engage in this sort of behavior we sometimes let them sleep it off. But was it ever “on” them in the first place?

Speaking of sleep, why do we say we “fall” asleep? Unless we collapse from sheer exhaustion, we don’t fall anywhere. It seems to me the only purpose of saying we fall asleep is to justify the expression of waking up. Because, while we may “wake up,” we may not necessarily “get up.” That would then mean we were still lying in bed. Then, that begs the question of why do we say we “lie” in bed? It makes it sound as though we can’t tell the truth unless we are standing up. Is that why we say, “he’s a stand-up guy,” if he is an honest man? And if that is the case, then why do judges “sit” on the bench. And why is it called a bench when it more closely resembles a desk and the judge is clearly seated in a chair? Shouldn’t we instead refer to him as a chairman? Although, unless the chair is permanently attached, he would not really be a chair-man, just a regular man.

But wait, if there are “regular” men does that mean there are unleaded men as well? And what about diesel men? I guess those would probably be called truck drivers. You know, guys like me with a lot of time for useless thought. And then, being lost in thought we miss our turn and have to circle the block.