Illegally Parked

You learn a lot of interesting things by reading through the law. The law in my state is known as the Oregon Revised Statutes. I like to peruse these occasionally, sometimes simply out of curiosity, other times because someone, or some event, has compelled me to see what the law actually says.

Recently, I had the occasion to check the exact wording of the law regulating parking in my state. Specifically, parking on the shoulder of a road. I thought I knew what it said, but it’s always best to be sure when you plan on standing up to an individual who believes they own and control the public streets. My town seems to have more than its fair share of these people.

After reading through the entire section, it was clear that the law was as I’d thought; just because someone may not like where a car is parked, if it’s not illegally parked they can’t have it towed. What constitutes being parked illegally is spelled out in the law and not a matter of opinion. This all should be a foregone conclusion, I know, but like I said, I needed to be sure.

I was also quite intrigued by what else I discovered. In Oregon, as in many states, no vehicle can be parked within 50 feet of a traffic light or stop sign. This was interesting to me because the police in my neighborhood like to pull alongside the curb, sometimes within ten feet of the stop sign, waiting on unsuspecting motorists.

There are exemptions to this statute and I figured the police would be included in them. I was wrong. Police cars are not exempt—unless they are responding to an accident or other emergency. Cool, I thought. I’m getting my camera ready. I have a feeling the city isn’t going to like me soon.

But then, I found something even better. One of the exemptions listed is “commercial vehicles engaged in any activity associated in the collection of solid waste.” Hey! That’s me! For those who may not know, “solid waste” is the sanitary term for garbage.

So, in effect, what I’ve learned is, once the cops stop their illegal parking activities, I’ll have a new place to park my semi if I need to stop at home for anything!

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Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice President of Rave Reviews Book Club http://ravereviewsbynonniejules.wordpress.com

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The Saga Continues

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my troubles of breaking down or, more accurately, my truck breaking down at work—and quite frequently, I might add. I literally couldn’t go more than a day or two without something breaking. Well, I’m happy to report that I’ve been assigned a new truck—a brand new truck! Great, right? Maybe not.

The truck rides nice, the seat is comfortable, it smells clean and new, and the paint is oh, so shiny! So, for the superficial, and ultimately unimportant stuff, they’ve got it covered. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to make much of a difference. The Check Engine light is constantly on, the cruise sometimes works, and the transmission well, it takes a little coaxing.

Given my recent run of bad luck, I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised when, on only my second night in the truck, it broke down. But not to worry, the mechanic said when he arrived, it was nothing major.

Nothing major? The truck would not run and there I sat, stranded on the highway—again! That’s kind of “major” to me. Actually, the guy did have it fixed pretty quickly and I was only a little late in getting home. Still, I would think a brand new truck would last more than a measly two days. Two days! But, as I was told, I have unreasonable expectations.

I don’t think I do. Not anymore. I fully expect the saga to continue!

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Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook and paperback on iTunes, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords, or at www.bruceabordersbooks.weebly.com. Amazon Profile - http://www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS Bruce A. Borders also serves as the Vice President of Rave Reviews Book Club http://ravereviewsbynonniejules.wordpress.com

Where Am I?

Fog. Another winter driving hazard with which I’m all too familiar. Usually, when people encounter fog, either they run out of it in a few minutes, or they are not going that far so it doesn’t last long enough to affect them. Me, I’ve driven for twelve hours straight in fog so dense I could barely see the signs on the road. As a fellow driver put it one day, “I’m sitting out on the edge of the hood and I still can’t see where I’m going.”

Sure, I’d much rather have the fog than ice or snow, but it is still rather frustrating and nerve-racking, especially when spatial disorientation kicks in. For those who may not know the term, spatial disorientation is defined as the loss of a sense of direction, position, or relationship with one’s surroundings. The phrase usually refers to pilots but can also be produced in other situations such as through blindfolding or, by fog.

Pilots who suffer spatial disorientation lose the ability to determine the direction they are flying or their altitude. Despite their instruments providing them this information, they are lost - flying blind because they simply don’t believe the instruments. For truck drivers, this translates to believing you are traveling uphill when you’re really going downhill or vice-versa.

It’s quite a remarkable phenomenon actually, when your brain begins to override what you know to be true. And, it can be fun! Sort of.

The first time it happened to me, I found myself arguing with the speedometer. I knew I was climbing the mountain yet from all indications outside it appeared I was headed downhill. Then I started thinking something was wrong with my truck - I had to keep downshifting and was still losing speed. Now, all of this is perfectly normal when going uphill and still, I was convinced I was going down a steep grade. Keep in mind that even in the heaviest fog, I can still see mile markers and other roadside landmarks as I go by. I’d driven this road every day for years and knew every bump and curve. I knew exactly when to shift and the speed I should be going at each point on the road so I should’ve been able to determine exactly where I was. Yet, I could not.

Since that first time, I’ve learned to recognize when this starts happening - and try to not let it affect me. Just the other night, I was finishing up my run - in the worst fog I’ve experienced in a while. I couldn’t see where to turn but since this is my sixteenth year of driving for the same place, I knew precisely where it was by the contour of the highway. Still, it takes a little nerve to turn a loaded semi off the road into a vast nothingness. But just because the road can’t be seen doesn’t mean it isn’t there!

Feeling pretty proud of myself, I parked the semi, grabbed my stuff, and walked toward my pickup. Or, at least that’s what I intended to do. It took only a minute to discover that I was headed the wrong direction and was nowhere near my pickup. But which direction should I go?

Obviously, I did find it - eventually - and even made it home. But clearly, spatial disorientation is still alive and well! And still fun. Sort of.

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Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books. Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, and other titles, are available as ebooks on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. His books are also available in paperback at most 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 Bruce also serves as the Vice President of Rave Reviews Book Club http://ravereviewsbynonniejules.wordpress.com

Highway Robbery

Do Not Stop On Roadway! Do Not Pick up Hitchhikers! These and other warning signs decorated the side of a secluded stretch of highway that I used to drive regularly. The road passed within a few hundred yards of a maximum-security prison.

In the past, inmates had been known to escape and then con, or force, some poor unsuspecting motorist out of their car. In many cases, the fugitives are desperate men with no qualms about carjacking or killing someone if it means a way of escape. I drove a semi truck through the area, which came with an added risk. Not only would the truck provide transportation, there also exists the potential of a huge payoff - depending on what load was being hauled in the trailer. While a lot of goods can be quickly turned into cash, other items are not so easily gotten rid of. For example: a load of cereal is worth $100,000 or so, but it’s no simple chore to liquidate 18,000 boxes of Cap’n Crunch. On the other hand, a load of electronics would be considered hitting the jackpot. The good news is, they have no way of knowing what a truck is hauling - or they aren’t supposed to anyway. It’s all a gamble, the luck of the draw. But I didn’t like the prospect of a highway robbery at the hands of escaped convicts who were hoping to strike it rich.

Back to my story. The numerous signs were erected to warn travelers of the dangers of stopping. Danger Zone - Keep Moving! Caution - No Parking at any time! And there were many more. Clearly, officials were quite convinced that portion of road was not at all safe. And so, it made the perfect place to break down. (Typed with the most sarcasm my fingers could muster).

And break down I did. It wasn’t anything major. I just needed to reconnect a couple of loose wires. All in all, I spent no more than five minutes on the side of the road and probably could have cut that time in half - if I hadn’t been keeping a wary eye on each and every approaching vehicle while listening and watching; constantly checking the surrounding terrain of tall grass to make sure no orange-clad bodies materialized.

Obviously, I made it back on my way with no ill effects. And I bet you’re wondering just what I was hauling. Okay, you probably weren’t - but you are now! So, what was the load? Well, not much really. Just six small pallets in fact. Except these particular six pallets held 45,000 lbs. of pure silver!

I think that load would have been considered striking the mother lode!

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 #MiscarriageOfJustice

My Wife Doesn't Know Me

Wouldn’t you think a wife should recognize her husband? Even if they were newlyweds, I would think she would be familiar enough with him that seeing him walking down the street should ring a bell. But, I apparently would be wrong.

Shortly after my wife and I were married, we were visiting a small town in Wyoming. I’d gone into the store and my wife was outside with my mother. When I returned from a different direction than my wife was expecting, it took her a few seconds to realize who I was – although, she’d been looking at me the whole time. Of course, I gave her a hard time about checking out the cowboy she saw walking down the street. (Hopefully, she thought I was at least as good looking as her husband).

I did find it a little odd that she hadn’t recognized me. I guess I could chalk it up to the fact that we were in a strange town, or that I wasn’t where she’d thought I would be - or something. Maybe the three or four years she’d known me at that point wasn’t quite long enough to recognize me from a distance. Whatever the reason, I really didn’t think she was going senile – yet. Several years later though, I began to wonder.

I was driving down the freeway in my semi, when my wife and one of our daughters passed me - my daughter was driving and my wife was in the passenger seat. I’d seen the car coming in my mirror, and when they went by, I waved – and got a blank stare. She didn’t know me! I waved again – still no response. And it gets worse. Later, I learned my daughter had told her it was me they were passing and my wife had said she didn’t think so.

All right, to be fair, the sun had gone down, and it was getting a little dark. Still, I would think after twenty years or so of being married to me, the woman should recognize her own husband! I realized I have aged, but not that much.

But then, maybe I shouldn’t be too critical. Not long ago, I pulled into my driveway and wondered who that was trimming roses in the yard. She looked kind of familiar, I thought, but it was quite a long few seconds before I recognized her. Yeah, you guessed it. It was my wife.

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. For more information, visit www.bruceaborders.com. See Bruce’s Amazon Author Page at www.amazon.com/author/bruceaborders or view his Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders

Pet Peeves

I have a lot of pet peeves – a lot of things bug me. I know, a pet peeve is supposed to be the one that irks you more than any other, but I have a hard time deciding on just one. So instead, I keep a running list. It has grown quite large over the years. The list includes; slow drivers when I can’t pass, people getting my order wrong at a restaurant, anything resembling rock music, waiting in long lines when I’m in a hurry – and of course, I’m always in a hurry. Also on the list: shaving with a dull razor, high prices of practically anything, winter – in its entirety, and running out of ink – even though I have three printers in my office. As you can see, the list covers a broad spectrum of subjects. It’s quite long and there seems to be no common thread other than these things really bug me. I once thought of making one of those tear-away calendars – one with each day of the year. Each sheet would proclaim a different pet peeve for the day. I soon discovered that wouldn’t quite cut it, 365 days just isn’t enough! Perhaps a five-year calendar would work better?

At any rate, now that summer is here, and being that I’m a truck driver, you can probably guess what currently tops my list – road construction, miles and miles of road construction. In itself, the construction wouldn’t be so bad – if the road actually needed repairing. The problem is, most of the construction going on is to replace a perfectly good highway. I think they’re just fabricating jobs and wasting money. I’ve driven the same stretch of road for more than fifteen years, this summer marks the fifth time they’ve resurfaced the same portions of that road. Then, to make things worse, the construction brings about another of my pet peeves – slow drivers. I don’t mind that they slow down a little, but when the posted construction zone speed limit is 50 mph, and I routinely follow people through it at 30 mph, or even slower, I get a bit antsy.

To my credit, to date, I have not used the 95,000-pound semi to push anyone out of my way! I’ll admit it sounds tempting and could easily be done - but no, I just take a breath and add the driver to my list. And then add another half an hour or so to my day, arriving home much later than I should have – you guessed it, another pet peeve. Then, that cuts into my time at home – just one more of my pet peeves.

You see my problem? How one thing leads to another? Pretty soon, a cascading of pet peeves is released. As they pile up, my list keeps growing. It’s getting hard to keep track of them all.

I suppose I could just quit my job – and eliminate over half the items on the list in one shot. But, not having any income and eventually, no vehicle and no house (or much of anything else), my list would again balloon, and probably be larger than it is now. I guess the only thing I can do is complain about it.

Perhaps I should revisit the idea of a calendar. Is there such a thing as a ten-year calendar? That might do it. Writing everything down and then tearing off the paper might even prove therapeutic. My wife says far too many things bug me. Maybe so. She’s usually right about that kind of stuff. Hmm. Where is my list?

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. For more information, visit http://www.bruceaborders.com/. See Bruce’s Amazon Author Page at www.amazon.com/author/bruceaborders or view his Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders

What Goes Up

It’s an age-old adage, “What goes up, must come down.” Sometimes it’s hard to apply this to real-life situations, especially for someone who’s new to a certain job.

A few years ago, when I was an over-the-road driver, another driver and I were dispatched to a mountainous area with steep passes, up and then down. The other driver was fresh out of driving school – in his first year of driving truck. Now, runaway trucks are nothing to laugh at and can be quite dangerous, but the trick is for the driver to control the truck and not the other way around. The general rule of thumb for descending steep grades is to use the same gear and go the same speed as when climbing the grade, braking only occasionally. Overuse of the brakes will cause them to heat up and not work. Trust me, you don’t want to be going down a mountain pass in an 80,000 truck with no brakes.

We were halfway down a 5-mile grade when I noticed the other driver had grown strangely silent. I checked my mirror and he was still there, but seemed to be gaining on me rather quickly. I asked if he was all right, and in a stressed voice, he said he wasn’t; that he couldn’t slow down. Instantly, I knew what had happened. Although I’m sure they told him in truck-driving school not to ride the brakes, that’s what he had done. I asked if he’d ever driven in mountains before and he told me he hadn’t. He seemed near panic as he added that he’d never even seen mountains before. He’d gotten scared at the top when he saw what we had to go down. Wanting to make sure he went slow enough, he’d used the brakes way too much.

At that moment, I wasn’t too thrilled that he was behind me. I had nowhere to pull off and I certainly wasn’t going to speed up just to get out of his way. Lucky for me, the guy still had enough wherewithal to steer the truck around me. Lucky for him, no oncoming traffic was approaching. Also lucky for him, the rest of the hill was straight and he rode it out. There still was nowhere to stop and we climbed the next grade. At the top, there finally was a pull-off. His brakes should have cooled enough by then but I wanted to make sure before we started down again.

I made a thorough check of the brakes and they were fine – the driver, not so much. He had no desire to get back in the truck. I did manage to convince him to continue on, by telling him I’d let him know on the CB what gear to use, how fast to go, and when to brake. Since both trucks were just alike and we were hauling the same weight, all he had to do was follow what I did. We started down and I talked him through to the bottom. We continued this way, up and down, me giving instructions, for the next 100 miles or so.

Finally, as the steep grades flattened out, we came to a town. Parking at a tiny truck stop, I could smell the brakes on the other truck. Apparently, he’d still been a little overzealous with them, which he readily admitted, saying at the bottom of every grade he’d started losing his brakes again.

The guy was still shaken and sweating profusely. Walking straight to a payphone, he called the company, and quit. The dispatcher did eventually convince him to drive the truck back to the terminal.

I talked to the same dispatcher a few hours later and he wanted to know what had happened with the other driver. “He needs to relax and not use the brakes so much,” I said a little sardonically.

The dispatcher replied that some people have a hard time getting used to driving a semi-truck in mountains but they usually do get the hang of it. “They just need a little time.”

“Okay,” I said, but I wasn’t convinced. Easy for him to say, he hadn’t been the one in front of a runaway truck. “I’d rather they learn before following me down a mountain,” I said.

Oh, did I mention this was my first year of driving truck too? Okay, to be fair, I should point out that I grew up in mountains – and I was quite familiar with the practical application of the saying, “What goes up, must come down.”

Bruce A. Borders, author and songwriter has over 500 songs and 9 books. Over My Dead Body, and The Journey, his latest books, are available on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. For more information, visit http://www.bruceaborders.com/. See Bruce’s Amazon Author Page at www.amazon.com/author/bruceaborders or view his Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders

Is It July Yet?

22 degrees and raining. Raining hard. Conditions not at all conducive to driving. The winter weather storm warning said driving tonight would be extremely hazardous or impossible.

And where am I? Behind the wheel, of course. Since the notice didn’t mention an offer to pay my bills, I went to work. I am now cruising down the freeway at an astonishing 20 mph! At that rate, my normal run of 700 miles will take 35 hours. I think the Department of Transportation, which limits driver’s operation of a commercial vehicle to 12 hours, might frown on that.

So, I made an executive decision. Instead of my usual two trips, tonight, I’ll be making just one. The shortest of the two. That will cut my miles to around 300. I realize that’s still 15 hours at my present speed but, according to the CB chatter, parts of the road ahead are better. I should be able to get back within the 12-hour timeframe. If not, I’ll stop and wait. After 10 hours off, I can drive again. Of course, in that time the roads may become impassable. With as much snow and ice as we already have, any additional accumulation could mean an even longer wait. And the longer I wait, the worse it could become. A guy can’t win.

So, maybe I should just wait for warmer weather. How long could it take? July isn’t that far away is it?

Bruce A. Borders, author and songwriter has over 500 songs and 9 books. Over My Dead Body, and The Journey, his latest books, are available on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. For more information, visit http://www.bruceaborders.com/. See Bruce’s Amazon Author Page at www.amazon.com/author/bruceaborders or view his Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders