Trucker tales and the truckers who tell them.

Twitter posts will replace lunch counter gossip.

 

I clipped a deer last night on ME-117.... pretty dramatic. Authorities said they'd send a guy with a shovel (lol! - I did sweep it's head under the steer tire).... if only I'd done a barrel roll, like I do in my F-18 (Airforce Vet, you know.... *wink*) - everything would be peachy -keen and there'd be one more deer to shoot at in October. But alas, my trucks turbo boosters were disabled. Been malfunctioning for weeks, I keep putting it on the DVIR, but the shop keeps saying it's a non-essential item and i can't be put out of service for it..... Well, now they know why I need those boosters to function!!! Idiots!!!

 

And here's a picture of the random friendly cat that rushed my porch at 4.30a. She wanted attention & to go inside. First given; second not. But had no interest in chicken. You guys believe that ####!

 

True, because the few lunch counters that still exist are rapidly disappearing.

 

There might be a couple around Baltimore, but am afraid that advancing time and age may have closed the places forever.

 

I actually DID have that happen. Only it wasn't on a boat it was on a dock and it wasn't same day it was a week later.

Basically my mother's boyfriend had cast out his line and set the rod down on the dock so that he can open a beer. his rod winds up slipping out and into the water on a bite. We tried like hell to snag that rod with a hook and sinker and just couldn't do it.

I was only about twelve or thirteen at the time. The next week when we went back I was casting off of the same dock pulling in a lure when I snag something and started hauling in on it. I get the lure out of the water and it turns out I had snagged a bunch of fishing line. This wasn't uncommon because this Pond / Lake was kind of trashy. Well just for giggles I start pulling up on the #### line and out comes a fishing rod. It was his fishing rod from last week. As I get the rod out of the water I start to feel some tug because I'm still holding on the line well I pull in the line by hand and you would not believe the size of this fish it was about A 4 inch bluegill that had yanked his rod into the water. I don't know if I was more surprised that we recovered his rod or that the bluegill was still attached. Needless to say we unhooked the bluegill and let him go back.

 

I like the tails people tell. I just retired as a first responder. We had a desk jockey who would tell the newbies stories of what he did. Problem was some of the calls he talked about occurred on his days off but amazingly he was there.
On the days he was "working" he would listen to the radio and then show up on scene after everything had been handled and then boast about what he did.
The best was how he would talk like he was a veteran but he never served a day. To his credit he never said he was a veteran. He either forgot or did not care that I am a veteran and knew his stories were B.S.

 

I talked to a guy on the cb one night who had me thinking that maybe the U.S.A. had another Army i wasnt aware of. Unit structure, rank structure, etc....all different. I even asked him if it was the U.S. Army he was in. Sure didnt seem like the same one i was in. He assured me that was because i had "just been in the field artillery"!

 

You'd be fun to have in a poker game.

 

I was pullin' up a hill that's known as the the Devil's Crest,
Haulin' 36 ton on a run called the Nitro Express.
There was nothin' but curves a runnin' from the top on down,
And at the bottom of the grade sat a quiet little country town.

Well, I was drivin' off the top when she jarred and the driveshaft broke,
Started pumpin' up the brakes, saw 'em going in a big cloud of smoke.
To keep 'er upright... I knew I had to do my best,
Against a runaway bomb they call the Nitro Express.



There was 36 ton of a detonated steel,
Over 18 tires that smoked and squealed.
I had to ride her down and I couldn't jump free,
Or there'd be a big hole where that little town used to be.

Well that old trailer leaned each time that I took another curve,
My hands started sweatin' and I knew I was losin' my nerve.
And I was cussin' each rock and every inch of the Devil's Crest,
A fightin' with the wheel of a rig called the Nitro Express.

I side-swipped a mountain so I'd slow her down by rubbin' her side,
And when the sparks started flyin' man it looked like the 4th of July.
I finally got her stopped... But mister I'm a gonna confess,
That's the last run I'm makin' in a rig called the Nitro Express.


Cause there'd be a big
Hole where that little town used to be.
Lyrics by Red Simpson