Eighteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses - Kathy Mattea

This Is The Outfit I Drove For. Forty One States In Just Over A Year. Not Bad...

Ever Been Trucking...

Breaker 1-9, how bout that westbound flatbed, you got your ears on bud? How bout it westbound? A minute or so later a voice came booming over my CB radio. You got Big Jim from Wyoming here, who we got on that end? I tell him they call me Bojangles and I hail from the great state of Kansas. Big Jim was quick to ask how Toto was doing. Wise guy.
Big Jim asks what’s on my mind. I asked him whether he’s seen any bears (State Troopers or local cops) for the last few miles and because I’m about an hour over my 10 hours I needed to know whether or not the chicken coops (weigh stations) about ten miles down the road were open tonight. Big Jim assured me the chickens had flown the coop for the night (the weigh station is closed) and said he hasn’t seen a bear for a couple hours or so. Mash the gas Bojangles, this is Big Jim, I‘m heading to the house. I thanked Big Jim for the information and told him to be careful and to keep his britches between the ditches. This is Bojangles, I gotta be in Jacksonville, Florida by morning and I’m outta here. And off into the night we headed our separate ways.
I was doing a little rearranging in my basement the other night and brought in another box of priceless treasures (junk) from days gone by out of the garage and came across the briefcase my dad had given me years and years ago when I first started trucking. I probably hadn’t seen this stuff in almost 20 years. In that box was my old log book, which by the way, I hated. There was a map of fuel stops from one end of the country to the other. Safety manuals out the wazoo, and booklets dealing with hazardous materials, load limits, and night time driving. I came across my dispatcher’s card, her name was Jean and for the most part we got along pretty well. I opened a manila envelope crammed full of the papers my wife and I had to fill out anytime she came along as a passenger. Then there was the notebook I used for all the needed information on every load I ever hauled. Information like Shipper name and address, phone numbers, load and seal numbers, piece count, weight, and pick up time. That was followed by the same information about the receiver of whatever I was hauling at the time.
I Can’t say I remember every detail of every load I ever hauled but a few of them do stick out. One load (hazardous chemicals) started in New Orleans and ended in a town called Nitro, West Virginia. First off, I thought the name Nitro was a little weird. It was a trip that included the “Huey P. Long” bridge in New Orleans. I’ll just say my wife ended up scared to death in the sleeper before we’d even gotten half way across it. It was after we arrived in Nitro when the real fun started though. The rest of the story involves a “Haz-Mat emergency clean up crew, a completely unrelated explosion at a chemical warehouse across the road from where we were. That explosion prompted local health officials to issue a warning for citizens to stay indoors and to close all windows, doors, and to shut off their air conditioners. Yeah, I remember that particular load pretty well.
There was the time outside Ashville, North Carolina when I lost my brakes going down a mountain called “Black Mountain,” that was fun. The last load into Chicago is still fresh in my mind too. Let’s just say it involves a fellow trucker who called himself Wagon Master, a truck stop bar, a couple of bikers, and making what could easily be considered one of the worst decisions I‘ve ever made. We’ll see, maybe I’ll get into that but then again, maybe not. I’ve got stories about truck stops, lot lizards, missing kids, (especially young girls) and some of the other things that go out there with some of those living life on the road.
Anyway, I’m going to tell some of these stories over the next few weeks. If you’re interested, stop on by, who knows, maybe we can have a little fun along the way. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Happy New Year.
Maybe you have a similar story or you’re just curious about life on the road. Visit my web-site at www.rm235.blogspot.com click on comments and lay it on me. Or you can always e-mail me at www.kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net

Six Days on the Road and I'm Going To Make It Home Tonight...

The Numbers...

Numbers. I've never been a numbers guy, never really gave them much thought one way or the other. But over the course of the last 23 days I've learned numbers can literally mean the difference between life and death.
Numbers like 17, 235, 15,12, 160, 87, 65/45, and 23 all became to mean everything in my Granddaughter's world. Emily was born 17 weeks premature on November 12th.and was transferred to “room 235” of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Stormont-Vail Hospital. This was also the day my journey through her world of numbers began.
Good morning Emily, I'm your Grandpa. I know, I'm kind of big and probably a little scary looking but you'll get used to me. Hey, look at those numbers on the ventilator. The nurses tell me 15 is excellent for your oxygen level. And that the vent setting doesn't get much better than a 12. I know it's been a pretty rough first day for you, so I'm not going to stay too long. You be a good girl and mind the nurses, I'll see you in the morning. And remember that Grandpa loves you.
And so our daily routine began. We talked about the adventures we were going to have once she got to come home. First and foremost I explained she was going to have to put on some weight. At 1lb., 4oz., it was going to be hard for her to ride a bike. I offered to start bringing her chocolate chip cookies and pop. While Emily thought it was a good idea, the nurses didn't think so. We talked about her first day of school, about the fishing trips we were going to take. She was really excited about going 4-wheeling in the mountains of Colorado.
I told her how lucky she was to have two Grandmothers Linda and Debbie that loved her so much. We talked about her aunts, uncles, and cousins. I warned her about the stupid cats and dogs she'd meet. I even warned her about staying away from boys. I'm not sure, but I think I saw her blushing after this conversation. But mostly, she liked hearing about her Mommy and Daddy.
Over the next few days I learned about the other numbers on the monitor above her bed. The top one was her heart rate. I learned that 160 was a very good number indeed. And that 87 indicated how much oxygen was in her blood. The 65/45 was the blood pressure.
All day and night long the doctors and nurses watched these numbers. They made adjustments to the machines or medications according to what the numbers told them. They were very up front with us from the beginning. Some days were pretty good. Others were pretty bad, it all depended on the numbers. The nurses referred to this as the roller coaster ride.
Monday December 4th was an exceptionally good day. Her numbers were even better that they had been the previous weekend. She was finally able to open her eyes for the first time. They were the biggest, most beautiful, brown eyes I had ever seen. We talked about riding the train at Gage park. I blew her a kiss, told her Grandpa loved her, and assured her I'd see her in the morning.
Sometime around 9:00 Monday night the hospital called. Emily had taken a turn for the worse, and we needed to get there as soon as we could. It was the numbers, the 15 and 12 had turned into 101 and 40. The 160 was now a 50. The 87 was somewhere around 35 now, and the blood pressure that once read a steady 65/45 wasn't even registering anymore. They told us her system was shutting down, she was dying, and didn't think she'd be able to hang on for much more than 3 or 4 more hours.
While ultimately the numbers got the best of her, Emily did beat the 3 and the 4. She wasable to hang on about another 24 hours. And in doing so we were all able to say our goodbyes. I'm not sure what the others said to her. For me though, I held her tiny hand, kissed her on the forehead and told her I understood that if she had to go, and to remember that Grandpa loved her.
There are three more numbers to this story though. We had her with us for 23 days, 4 hours, and 42 minutes. And for that I'll always be grateful.
You can get a hold of me at my blog www.rm235.blogspot.com or you can e-mail me at: www.kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net

Gotta Stick Together...

Before we get started today I gotta deal with a personal issue. Note to my two sons: I know your both mad at each other and you’d rather I’d just stay out of it. But here‘s the deal boy‘s. Get over it and you’d better both be home for Christmas morning. Got it? Good!
Do I think this’ll do any good? Yeah I do. Obviously they’re too big to put over my knee nowadays but for whatever reason they still listen to me. Besides, like most families we’ve been through a lot worse than this.
Yeah I still gotta play the mean old dad part from time to time, but to tell you the truth, being a grandpa is a whole lot easier. Just last night I went to my grandson’s grade school, Christmas program. I just love watching those little kids singing their hearts out. While Adam and his classmates were doing their part I was playing with little Sophi. She just turned 1-year-old a couple of weeks ago and just constantly cracks me up. After the program we went to Mentzer’s for burgers and something to drink. Adam just loves the place, he drank a chocolate shake and l let Sophi drink most of my Pepsi so needless to say, by the time they went home with mom and dad they were both wound up pretty tight. Krista’s my little coloring buddy. And Shawn is just all boy. I don’t know how else to describe him. Once he started walking there has been no stopping him. You clean up one mess and he’s making another and it’s non-stop. We play trucks together and here’s how that usually works. I roll it to him. He throws it across the living room. I go get it. He laughs. I think he’s got me just about where he wants me. Do I spoil them? Oh yeah! And yes, I do consider it a form of payback.
How about you guys? Are you mad at somebody in your family? Maybe you haven’t spoken to your brother for a couple years because of some stupid fight you guys had. Maybe you’re mad at your sister. Could be either your parents or grandparents. Maybe it’s an aunt or an uncle, who knows?
I know, some things just can’t be worked out. But what’s it going to hurt to make a phone call just to say hi or maybe Merry Christmas? Maybe invite them over for Christmas dinner. Maybe you'll find out you both stopped being mad a long time ago. Maybe not. But unless someone makes the first move you’ll never know. Just remember, if you keep putting it off for whatever reason the day will come when it’s too late. Don't wait that long.
Well guys, it was two years ago almost to the week that I started writing this column and I’d like to thank you and Denise Hall for putting up with me as long as you have. It doesn’t come up often but every once in a while someone will ask me why I named the column “Room 235.” I’ve told the story before so some you might remember it. Just so the rest of you know, two years ago this week my grand daughter passed away. She was in Room 235 at Stormont-Vail, so there you go. Next week I’ll tell you the story about our little Emily and what she meant to us.
Yeah, I’m pretty confident our family’s going to weather this latest spat between brothers just fine. Like I said earlier, we’ve made it through a hell of a lot tougher times than this.
Like always, you’re invited to visit my blog at: www.rm235.blogspot.com or you can e-mail me at: kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net

Breaking our backs chasing the American dream...

The Looking Glass

Man, a hundred billion here and a hundred billion there and sooner or later you’re talking about real money. Let’s see, we’re bailing out the biggest banks in the nation and the insurance industry. General Motors, Ford, and Chrysler are hoping to get in on the action. Now Governors from all across the country are bellying up the feeding trough in an attempt to save their own butts before it’s too late and the money’s all gone.
Listen to the Democrats and they’ll tell you it’s all because of the neo-cons, George Bush, and his buddies who control big oil, big coal, and those big, evil corporations. You know, the one’s that provide us with millions of jobs, most of which pay very well and allow us to feed our families and put a roof over their heads. The same jobs that come complete with generous benefit packages including health insurance and retirement benefits. Anyway, if they’d just listened to people like Barney Franks and Nancy Pelosi and put more government regulations in place none of this would have happened. I mean besides, Republicans are nothing but a bunch of hicks anyway and everyone knew they couldn’t handle the job, right?
Listen to the Republicans and they’ll like tell you pretty much the same story only they’ll tell you they’ve been the one’s shouting from the rooftops that more government regulations needed to be put in place and the Democrats were the one’s standing in the way from the get go. If the Democrats had just listened there would be no problems in the world today. Whatever.
Greed and ignorance are what’s done us in. It’s pretty easy to put all the blame on Washington but come on. For the last 20 years or so we’ve all demanded higher wages and better benefits from our employers at the same time we demanded lower prices on everything we purchased.
I remember when I was a kid about the only thing you could get that was marked “made in China” were those little trinkets you paid a dime for in the gumball like machines at the grocery store. I remember thinking how cool it was to have something all the way from China.
Things have changed a little since those days, haven’t they? Today you’d be hard pressed to find anything that’s not made in China, Japan, or Korea. We’re outraged at the working conditions employees are forced to work under and how little they’re paid by some of these foreign companies. But that doesn’t seem to slow us down as we head out to the closest super-store to get the latest gadget they’re offering up, does it? Somehow or another we don’t get the connection between the millions of foreign made cars and trucks on our hi ways and the woes of the American Auto Industry. It’s all their fault, besides they deserve everything they get, right? Maybe they do. It sucks that if they go under they’ll take millions of jobs with them.
What about the millions of people who bought way more house than they could ever afford? Why is it that no one’s holding them accountable. You know, it’s one thing to buy that $250,000 house when you and your spouse combined are making about $50,000 a year. But then you throw in the new car for the wife and since you bought that great big 5th wheel travel trailer you just had to buy a new truck to pull it with. Sure, you got a good deal, only $35,000. There’s no way we’re going to use that old push mower anymore so we head out and buy that new John Deere mower. Yeah, I know our yards are pretty small and the mower is designed to mow up to 10 acres but man, we sure look cool don’t we? And we just had to have that new 60” plasma TV, the thought of watching TV on the old set is out of the question, right?
Then the overtime or the bonuses or whatever we so heavily counted on dried up and it was all we do just to keep our heads above water. We still had to put food on the table and the utilities still had to be paid. And of course there was no way we were going to cut back on eating out. I mean, why should we when we still have eight or nine credit cards to fall back on. Hell I’ll bet you at least three of them aren’t maxed out yet either. Think I’m exaggerating? Think again. The next time we’re looking for someone to blame our problems on all we need to do is look in the mirror.
You’re always welcome to visit my blog at: www.rm235.blogspot.com or you can e-mail me at: www.kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net