Ah, The Melting Pot: A Farce in One Act...

Austintown, OH


Yeah, so I, like, almost became a fugitive today.

I stayed last night in Milford, CT which is about an hour or so north of NYC. This morning, I had to deadhead my empty trailer through the city to North Bergen, NJ which is just the other side of the Hudson River from midtown Manhattan. My company has a drop yard there where I was going to drop my empty trailer and pick up my next load which had been relayed there the previous evening. I pulled into the yard and passed the guard shack where I was waved through by a nice black kid. I went back to the Schneider section (Schneider is my company, BTW), dropped my empty, found my load and made preparations to haul ass. It was about 6 AM and I wanted to get out of the city before the traffic began in earnest. I made my way back out to the gate and got waved through by the same black kid. I mention his race only because it has bearing later in the story.

I left the yard, which is at the end of a dead end street. I turned onto Tonelle Ave and began to make my way to the Jersey Turnpike. Then I saw a small gold-colored car flashing his lights as he came up behind me. I had get over due to a construction lane closure. This crazy guy came up around my right side and managed to get in front of me before he ran out of lane. He stuck his head out the window and motioned for me to stop. I couldn't really stop, though, because I was in the only open lane of a major thoroughfare. But, being the highly observant driver that I am, I spied a hole in the orange barrel barricade several hundred yards up and motioned to this guy, who was clearly Arab and not the same guard from the drop yard, that that was where I was headed. I wondered if, perhaps, I had hit him making my turn. So I pulled over and waited for him to catch up. He came up the side of my rig with a determined step and a clipboard in his hand. The following conversation had to be heard to be believed. I'll try to give it to you as much verbatim as my memory will allow. I never did get the guy's name, so I'll just call him Habib:

Habib: I call 911!!

Me: What?

Habib: I call 911!!!!!!

Me: (pause) Who are you?

Habib: (indicating security badge on chest) Is my responsibilty!! I have authority to call 911 and Schneider!!

Me: What are you talking about?

Habib: You did not stop!

Me: Where??!!

Habib: AT SCHNEIDER!!!!!

Me: Because the guy waved me through...

Habib: Yes.

Me: (mild puzzlement) Okay?

Habib: You did not stop!

Me: Because the guard waved me to go!!

Habib: Yes!!

Me: (still puzzled) Okay??

Habib: (motioning back to the yard) I think you come back now!

Me: What??!!

Habib: I think you come back now!!!

Me: I can't turn this thing around in the middle of the street!!

Habib: (sigh of disgust) Next time you stop!!

Me: Yeah. Okay.


Now, I know that last reply from me seemed flip, but it really wasn't. I had pretty well figured out what had happened and had moved on to other things in my mind. Namely, how to get this guy off my truck so I could get moving and out of the middle of the road. Nevertheless, the "Yeah. Okay." really pissed him off. I think he thought I was dismissing him. And I was, in part. Mostly, I just wanted to placate him and get him away before he lost his mind or something. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was a bit nervous when he first came up. He was dressed in black from head to toe with a sock cap and a windbreaker which covered up his security badge. I assured him that everything was indeed "Okay". Once I convinced him that the Infidel wasn't high-browing him, he calmed down, took the necessary information and I took off.

The yard I picked up in isn't owned by Schneider. It is owned by another company from whom they lease space and I guess Schneider maintains their own separate security checkpoint within the complex that I didn't see. I laugh about it now. That guy was all set to sick the law on me for stealing my own company's trailer.

It never ceases to amaze me how much store many foreigners, but especially many Arabs, put into rules and procedures. I guess that's the mentality that comes of a culture where they'll kill you if you don't do as you're told. When I lived in San Diego, I had two friends in school who were Iranian. They were both children of families that fled when the Shah was deposed in the late 70's. They were good enough guys, but I've never in my life, before or since, met anyone more square than these two characters. Everything had to be precisely in it's place or order or they would get...a bit cranky. Just strange people.

In Good Morning Vietnam, Robin Williams has a great line at the end of the film. He looks his uptight, holier-than-thou commanding officer square in the eyes and says "You're in more dire need of a blowjob than any man in history". So, it would seem, did the guy I met this morning. As for Arabs in general? What is the mass societal equivalent of a blowjob? Any ideas?

I know, I know. I'm dealing with some pretty heavy-handed stereotypes. I'm just relaying my thoughts and perceptions based on my own personal experience. You know what the sad truth about stereotypes is? They have a basis in general, general, mind you, fact. That's how they became stereotypes in the first place. Stereotypes, in and of themselves, are harmless. What's insidious is allowing stereotypes of the group to influence your judgement of the individual.



Any Questions? Any Comments? Be Quiet as You Go...

I Should Have Known Better...

Evansville, IN


Yeah, so it's been awhile. My brain has been kinda numb lately. That and four days at home with no internet has allowed me to recharge a bit.

Let's see, an update. Not much to report. The biggest news by far is I FINALLY, after over a year, got my truck fixed. Sort of. It runs okay but it won't be quite right unless it gets a new engine. I blew two head gaskets and there was valve damage resulting in a rough, choppy idle. More of a nuisance really. But I have it back and I was able to go see some people while I was home. I met Mike and Erin and "The Little Man" in Lexington for dinner one night. It was a lot of fun if altogether too brief. I also had lunch with my old friend Joy. It was good to see her. She's going through a bit of a rough patch right now and I hope she pulls through okay. I have every confidence that she will.

I also had my first voice lesson with Dr. Wolf in over a year. It was, shall we say, productive. We are both mas excited and began making plans for the coming year. More details as they come along.

I had a very bizarre dream this morning. I can only remember from a certain point and at that point, it is the middle of the night and I am fleeing a hotel on a bicycle. But, as is often the case when I dream I'm running away from some nameless, faceless entity, there is something holding me up. I'm just about to pedal onto the freeway when I remember I have left most of my stuff in the room. I head back and meet Stephanie, Scotty and Random Person coming out of the hotel parking lot in that red Jeep Steph drove years ago. It would appear that Steph is my significant other in some fashion or another. It is also clear that they are hell bent on ditching me for some reason. I stop them at the last second. I need to look in the back of the Jeep to see if any of my stuff is in there. I find a pair of women's jeans in a cardboard box. I find a Crown Royal bag with what sounds like a handful of coins. I find a backpack that belongs to me and I grab it. Nothing else is mine so I shut the door and Steph peels out of the driveway (Steph peels out??? )

Anyway, I proceed to the motel office to see if I can get back into the room. This is problematic at best. The office doesn't resemble a hotel office so much as a DMV office in a large urban area. There are literally about 15 to 20 employees running around behind the desk. I step up to a window to be greeted by a short, dumpy Polynesian looking woman in a seagreen dress who speaks barely comprehensible English. When she speaks to her co-workers, it is in a language consisting of chirps, clicks and whistles. I give her my name and ask if she can look up my room number as I have forgotten it. She types my name in. Her hands are scaly and have only two digits. An opposable thumb and a triangular shaped thing tapering to a blunt point from the knuckle, like something out of a Dr. Suess book. My name doesn't show up. I'm starting to panic. I need to get in that room.

I move to another window to find an attractive blonde with a black turtleneck who speaks perfect English, thank God. She tries my name in the computer. Nothing. I look at her. She now has no eyes or nose. Just a solid wall of unmarred flesh from the mouth up. The collar of her turtleneck is now around the crown of her head like a bandanna. I give her Steph's name. Nothing. Now the collar is back where it should be, but pulled up over where here eyes have reappeared and are visible through the collar. I'm getting frantic. I have to get in the damn room. People are beginning to stare. There are hotel employees all around and can't they just let me in the fucking room? It's 807. Or is it 806. I can't remember. I have to get in that room! Then I woke up...


I'll never eat Taco Bell before retiring again...

Any Questions? Any Comments? Be Quiet As You Go.

"...Gray skies are gonna clear up! Put on a happy face..."

Florence, SC

Finally, a reprieve. After three straight days of rain, I finally got a bright sun-shiny day to drive. Did I mention I love the South? I feel home again after an extended stay in the midwest and then the northeast. I went past a town in NC called Rock Ridge and my mind was immediately flooded with an image of Harvey Korman humping the statuette in his office. And the bath..."daddy loves froggy! Froggy loves daddy? ribbit...ribbit...ribbit..."

Ouch! I keep hitting my head. My truck is a double sleeper with a fold down bed above mine. I've slept in it before and it's quite comfortable, actually. Anyway, when I was delivering in Fargo last week, the customer refused two items because they were damaged. A case of kleenex and a case of paper towels. This happens from time to time and Schneider will usually tell me to dispose of refused freight in such a small quantity. This was first time I had picked up anything of practical use so I thought I'd keep them and take them to the house. This involved folding down the bed to store them. God what a boring story. Cut me some slack folks, they can't all be homeruns...;-)


"To the happy and prosperous man prayer is but a meaningless jumble of words until grief comes to explain to the unfortunate wretch the sublime language which is our means of communication with God." -- from The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas


Any Questions? Any Comments? Be Quiet As You Go.

The Cruise Factor

Ruther Glen, VA

Yesterday morning, I had a twenty minute discussion with myself concerning, of all people, Tom Cruise. Thus is the status of my sanity. I came to the preliminary conclusion that he, like Clint Eastwood before him, is his generation's John Wayne. Say what you will about him, but Duke knew his limitations as an actor. He knew what worked for him and what his fans wanted to see and he rarely strayed from that while starring in over 170 films, predominantly westerns and war movies. Clint Eastwood followed much the same path as an actor. It is as a director that he really began to flex his artistic muscle. In other words, they were smart. They knew good material when they saw it, most of the time, and I have rarely seen a film that either man was associated with that I didn't enjoy. Even Wayne's "singing cowboy" flicks from the early thirties have a kind of charm.

I feel much the same way about Cruise. I've seen most of his films and while I've never been terribly impressed with his acting, again, I've never seen him in anything I didn't like. Even the schlocky stuff like Top Gun and Mission Impossible have their moments. He, or someone close to him, is an excellent judge of material. Especially lately. I know some people had mixed feelings about them, but I thought Minority Report, The Last Samurai, and Collateral were three of the best films I had seen in a while. It begs the question, how much better could they been with an actor having more versatility and dramatic range.

Like the elder statesmen I mentioned above, Cruise seems to have a knack for knowing what suits him best. But still and all, he's not as good at it as they were. I still find myself becoming distracted by TOM CRUISE. He gets in the way and it's hard to differentiate him from the character he is trying to portray. This was also true of Eastwood and Wayne. The difference being, it didn't matter with them. They WERE the people you saw onscreen. Especially Wayne. Everything I've heard, read and intuited about him is that it never really mattered what the character's name was, they were all incarnations of the same character who was, in a very real sense, the embodiment of Marion Michael Morrison, AKA John Wayne. He lived hard, drank hard, played hard, worked hard and was an intense, loyal friend to those he was close to. On a side note, I find it ironic that John Wayne, the ultimate pop culture icon of masculine bravura was born less than two miles from another, quite antithetical pop-culture icon. The Covered Bridges of Madison County, Iowa. Yes, those Bridges of Madison County.

I've always felt John Wayne was underrated as an actor. He was very much stuck in his ways concerning his idea of what people wanted to see him do. But when pushed by a competent director, most notably, John Ford, he could be quite fascinating as an actor. If you have never seen The Searchers, I highly recommend that you do. You will see as fine a performance as was ever put on film. It was one of, if not, the earliest films to take a long, hard look at a truly bigoted man. Ethan Edwards truly hates "The Comanche" and would stop at nothing to see them wiped off the face of the earth. He should have won an Oscar for it, but Hollywood didn't then, and still doesn't, really, consider Westerns to be "Serious Films". Hogwash. The Quiet Man and McClintock are two more of my favorites. You get to see a comic side of Wayne. Very funny.

Eastwood has always been a more private man. This, perhaps, has made it easier for us to identify him so readily with the characters he has portrayed. And vice versa. I have no doubt in my mind that Eastwood would be perfectly willing to haul a out .44 magnum and blow some scumbag away, if it came to that. Maybe not with quite such a sense of glee. I also find Eastwood to be underrated as an actor.

Which brings us back to Cruise. He seems to have figured out the formula, but maybe just a bit bass-ackwards. He picks great scripts, but not always ones where he is highly suited for the role. I HATED him in Jerry Maguire, yet I liked the movie. He just wasn't believable, to me at least. Wayne and Eastwood had their share of clunkers. Ever seen The Conqueror, where Wayne takes a turn at Genghis Khan? Wayne himself shuddered at the mention of that atrocity. He once remarked that the moral of the film was "not to make an ass of yourself trying to play parts you're not suited for." And perhaps Eastwood should have quit while he was ahead after making Every Which Way But Loose and let Philo Beddoe well enough alone.I just can't imagine Tommy being self-effacing enough to admit something he did wasn't quite up to par. I think time has borne out my assertion that Wayne and Eastwood were a bit underrated as actors. Will time be so generous for Cruise? Perhaps. Even if he is a stark raving lunatic. You do realize Katie isn't really pregnant???? ;-)


Well, as my good friend Tuttle reminded us a few posts back, "opinions are like assholes. Everyone's got one." Here's mine. Take it or leave it.


Curiosity of the Day

Rain. Lots and lots of fucking rain.


"I would like to be remembered, well...the Mexicans have a phrase, 'Feo fuerte y formal'. Which means; he was ugly, strong and had dignity."

"Westerns are closer to art than anything else in the motion picture business" -- John Wayne


Any Questions? Any Comments? Be Quiet As You Go.

The Great Plains

Sioux Falls, SD


I SOOOO need a vacation. I listen to the Opie and Anthony radio show on XM satellite and they spent most of today's show talking about what they did on vacation last week. Anthony went on and on about his carribean cruise. Ye Gods! I needed a cigarette.


I spent a rather interesting day driving backroads in South Dakota. Talk about remote. I grew up in a small town of about 2500 or so. But it was just a few minutes drive to two metropolitan areas, Cincy and Lexington. I drove almost four hundred miles today and didn't go through a town with more than 800 people, and most were much smaller. I mean, some of these people don't have a wal-mart within 100 miles or more. It's almost unfathomable. I envy them, in a way. I envy the relative simplicity. I really enjoy the lack of business, in general. It's very flat and lacking in geographical detail. I love it. I could get lost in it. If I had the opportunity to go back in time, I would very much like to go back and be a part of the Lewis & Clark expedition. The majesty of this land is awe-inspiring. At least to me, anyway. To experience it in a virgin state would be, quite simply, breathtaking. I think if I only had to drive in the western part of the U.S., I would enjoy it a lot more. Except in the winter. It's still snowing in the mountains. Yech! Perhaps a roadtrip? That would tie in nicely with my vacation needs...:)


I also got to cross South Dakota off of my state list today. I thought about routing myself through Nebraska tomorrow so I could cross it off as well. But, I decided it was too far out of the way. Oh, well. South Dakota looks just like Kansas. Nebraska lies betwixt the two, so I guess I've been there by default. Maybe another time. For now, I'm off to Philly . *blech*


"...life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans..." -- Beautiful Boy by John Lennon


Curiosity of the Day

Well, just the day in general, I guess. I did see a billboard for an eatery featuring a "salad bar inside a bank vault"...O_o


Any Comments? Any Questions? Be Quiet As You Go?

Hi-Ho, Ho-Hum, Ho-Chunk!

Fargo, ND


Well, for the first time in many months, I got to cross a new state off of my list. This is my first ever venture into the great beyond that is North Dakota. It's very flat. And COLD. I mean, for crying out loud, it's April and it's still colder than Hillary Clinton's vestigial teat. I don't know how these people stand it.

Anyway, I crossed off the great ND from the index in the front of my atlas. These means that of the lower 48, I have now been to all but South Dakota, Nebraska, Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, Washington, Oregon AND...Vermont. Vermont's just kind of out of the way. You only go to Vermont. You don't go through Vermont. I just haven't been sent there yet.

Well, I felt inspired. Now my mind is totally blank. Maybe tomorrow.


Curiosity of the Day

Well, there's the Ho-Chunk Casino in Wisconsin Dells, WI. That never fails to crack me up. Oh, and I saw a bumpersticker that read: Guns don't kill people, Drivers with cellphones do! Amen brother. Amen.


"Don't confuse activity with achievement" -- John Wooden


Any Questions? Any Comments? Be Quiet As You Go.