Post Gordon ~ Thoughts, Commentary & Reflections

Hi Blue--

Thanks! There is life after Gordon, isn't there! O/O may be my next avenue unless it would force me to run all the time. Have to start with an older, paid-for truck to keep the stress down. To do that need good mechanic.

At any one time there may be 0-5 guests so you're not alone there. Anyone can read the thread; to post you need a login. I just wanted to jerk tow614's chain. Not sure he really is a driver as he says. He was on the Poly-Trucking thread for a while so it seemed he might be, not sure. Said he was trying to get on there. Leave Gordon. Oh, my! :0)

Vic

PS The neighbor came by and lined the top of the strut up. Took 2 minutes max and I had been fighting it for a long time alone. Hey! tow614! Start a thread, good therapy. Much better than trolling this one!

 

3579 Goes to Cummins

On Thursday I called the Shop Manager only to learn that 3579 had not left for Cummins yet. It had just sat all day Tuesday, all day Wednesday and most of the day Thursday at that point. "None of our mechanics have CDLs," he said. "So-what-does-that-mean," I asked. "Are-you-telling-me-I-need-to-drive-up-from-Spencer-to-take-3579-over-to-Cummins-myself?"

Of course, Gordon would not pay me to take 3579 anywhere for maintenance even if I were in Indy. It's just a gift from me to Gordon, at Gordon's behest! Big, rich, wealthy Gordon with it's cup out wanting my time--free again. "No, no, Victor," the Shop Manager says, "We'll get 3579 over to Cummins. Hopefully, today. If not today, tomorrow." Okay, fine. That means 3579 won't be out of the shop until Monday or Tuesday at the earliest. Okay, fine.

I called my DM and sometimes (sometimes often) you get a voicemail message asking whether you want to wait for YOUR DM, or speak to ANOTHER DM INSTEAD. Your DM could be a while putting some fire out or out to lunch. I opted for ANOTHER. ANOTHER came on--in due course--and I updated about 3579's status on the yard when it really needed to be over at Cummins.

"Well," she said, "Gordon is going to want you to come in and drive another truck while your truck is in the shop." As far as I was concerned it wasn't up to her--or Gordon. I got a call that night asking that I come up to Indy that night and expressed my complete lack of interest and suggested we talk about it tomorrow. Too short notice. I got a call back that whatever they had planned for me for Thursday night had already been cancelled anyway. Okay, fine.

Friday 'Gordon' calls again. These calls did not come from my DM. From 'Gordon'. I finally agree to come up on Saturday. Don't really want to but fine. I'll come up Saturday. After all, I've had Tuesday through Friday to get things done here on my property, including brush and bathe dogs, etc. It's a good thing. Fine.

I drove up Saturday and got to the yard about 8 a.m. (don't hold me to that, not sure exactly) only to find the office closed. 3579 was not on the yard. Apparently it finally went over to Cummins.

It didn't take too long for a car to pull up that I hadn't noticed parked by the office before. A big guy gets out, unlocks the office and goes in. Okay, fine. Inside I meet Astro Turf, Gordon's worst DM in my opinion; I just don't know it then. He describes himself as kind of a combination DM, Planner and Fleet Manager all rolled into one. He was certainly big enough for three. He works weekends and I'm working with him today; he says I will QC (QualComm) him directly rather than the standard QC you send to your DM.

So this is Gordon local work that Gordon commandeers an OTR guy whose truck is in the shop or over at Cummins to do and doesn't pay him hourly. At this point I'm wondering more about all my gear in 3579 than I am about Astro Turf. Is Cummins open? Astro Turf says he doesn't know. The shop doesn't know, but thinks not. I find out it's not. Astro Turf tells me to go get 10664, a newer Cascadia than 3579. Astro Turf assumes I'm his to do with as he pleases, at his and Gordon's servitude.



Written July 16, 2013 at home, six miles north of Spencer, IN. All rights reserved by author.

 

Dispatch #18--Indianapolis, IN L to Seymour, IN (Tractor 10664)
60 miles...................................................................................................... 18.60
Short Haul Pay.............................................................................................. 20.00

Dispatch #19--Seymour, IN L to Indianapolis, IN (Tractor 10664)
60 miles...................................................................................................... 18.60
Short Haul Pay.............................................................................................. 20.00

To Astro Turf's credit, he did not start out straight up bullying at me like I believe he did when I was on my third dispatch for Gordon on my way to Melrose Park. No, he wanted some limited buy-in. "What we'd like to do today is get some left overs off the table, you'll get mileage plus short haul pay. I'll get you short haul pay both ways. That way you'll make some money. Okay?" Drove up from Spencer, a little under an hour away, for this. Back-and-forth to Seymour. 130 miles. I made $77.20 for the day. Total.

$18-$24/hour for local work makes a lot more sense to me. Estes, Con-Way, Old Dominion, UPS, etc. I am not sure what Fed-Ex pays now. I made $16 working for the LTL company next door four years earlier and they were struggling so badly that at least once sent everyone home when the fuel supplier refused to deliver diesel without payment in cash and they didn't have it.

I cut my tractor-trailer teeth on local PU/DEL (pickup-and-delivery) in the Greater LA-Orange County Metro. Getting quickly in-and-out of shippers for a quick pickup/delivery is different from doing the guard shack thing for a drop-and-hook or live load at a big distribution center. The skill in local PU/DEL is wasting no time bumping the dock. That helps on truck loads, too, but it's not so critical. (Unless you're doing stinker 0-300 mile loads; it might help but not much.) Like anything else, it gets easier with practice. And you get something else you don't get OTR: a little exercise. Imagine that!

At the LTL company next door to Gordon, I had a run no one else wanted, out northwest of Indy to Crawfordsville and Attica, out into the boonies and farm land, and never missed a pickup or a delivery. More than once dispatch told me I could leave a couple bills off the trailer because he thought it too much. "I don't think it's a problem," I would say, echoing Gordon's Recruiter years later right next door.

If I wanted to work local out of Indy, as I did for the LTL company next door to Gordon's yard on Dividend Road, it's there. Right now, as I write, Old Dominion wants drivers and you won't do better in this industry than Old Dominion. If you look at their yard on Morris, you'll see a line up of white-and-green daycabs, all smart and sharp.

In contrast, just a skip down Morris is Central Freight, another national LTL freight hauler--but what a difference. Old Dominion has pride and polish, Central Freight has yellow trucks that look beaten and dirty. You choose. If I were to take a regular job like that again, I'd buy a place nearby, an inexpensive foreclosure or other cheap property to be had close by, a mile or two from the yard where I work out of now. Go home to Spencer on weekends.



Written July 16, 2013 at home, six miles north of Spencer, IN. All rights reserved by author.

 

Tractor 10664 on the Gordon Yard

Tractor 10664 wasn't too bad. It smelled some of cigarette smoke, had a Windows-based QualComm that wasn't as clunky as 3579's DOS-based unit. The Trainer had a Windows-based QualComm like this unit with the same slider to open like some cell phones. Just bigger.

Since all my gear was over in 3579 at Cummins, I got some deodorizer and all-purpose cleaner from the shop. It didn't take too long to get the truck trip checked and road ready. At this point I hadn't come to any conclusion about Astro Turf. That would come later. I like to think for myself but you can't truly do that if you can't keep an open mind. Gather facts first. When all the facts seem there, then think about it.

The first red flag came by his desk. Across from Astro Turf's desk was a gal I was told came from Green Bay, temporarily in Indy. She was waiting on a driver and he had just pulled into the Green Bay yard. "He's stopped. He's there now," she said. "So I should be getting a call any moment now, right?"

She said it like she doubted it and that she and Astro Turf both knew that the call from this driver was not coming promptly. Maybe she'd at least have to ask for it again over the QC or maybe even demand it. "I'd make sure," Astro Turf said, "that if he doesn't call promptly in the next five minutes without my asking again, that he has at least the afternoon at Green Bay to think about it." Astro Turf's tone had an edge to it and it wasn't friendly. Now Astro Turf had my full attention.

I realized at that moment that Astro Turf was a retaliatory person. He wanted to retaliate sufficiently so that a five-minute delay in calling would result in an afternoon's delay to the driver. Why, if he's like me, the driver's got to pee so bad he's standing behind the driver's seat right now, I thought, peeing into a pee bottle--one of the great advantages guy drivers have over gal drivers. Pee bottles. When you've really gotta go.

I like people one-at-a-time. An ex-girlfriend, though, was a true people person. A roomful of 30 people just pumped her up. She's lovely but only really interested on the surface, never really cared to dig deeper. 30 in a room drains me like air out of a balloon. One-on-one, I don't care if we have 180 degree different world views. I'll gladly compare notes with you whether or not I agree with you. And I have no filter. It doesn't bother me that we don't agree and I'll let you know. You can count on it.

The old girlfriend said the problem with me was that I didn't give a whit what people thought. I still don't see the problem. With 30 people in the room, though, I have to somehow turn 28 or 29 off, and just focus on the one or two. I tend to probe. Of course, the more people I have to talk to, the turn-off process moves from one to another. Ugh! Like going through the gears in city traffic and not paid hourly.

At the end of the day, Astro Turf and I talked by his car for actually quite a while. He had told me earlier a truck was coming in, maybe in a couple hours. I would be driving that truck, maybe from then on. He was tired, exhausted from keystroking into that screen in front of him all day. He lived 30 minutes away in Lebanon, IN, half as far away as me.

So he would go home and sleep in his bed 30 minutes away and I would wait for this unknown truck. For no pay. In the meantime, I headed out to do some laundry off Lynhurst.



Written July 16, 2013 at home, six miles north of Spencer, IN. All rights reserved by author.

 

Another Stinky Truck!

When I got back from doing my laundry, I had forgotten the truck number that Astro Turf had not written down for me. I saw one tractor backed up by the gate and it was unlocked but very skunky with lots of rubbish inside. No way I could clean that up enough to sleep in it for the night. I didn't want to spend the evening waiting for a driver and some unknown truck anyway, so drove home. Made my dogs happy.

I knew that Astro Turf wouldn't be in until 9 or so, so I timed my drive up to Indy to match. When I walked into the office I saw him at his desk in a big, bright, green shirt that flat shouted, "I'm green, very, very green!" (Astro Turf, get it?)

"Aren't we green this morning," I said. No response. None. As though I hadn't walked in. I sat down across from his desk, not right at his desk and waited. Astro Turf was in no hurry to speak to me. Wanted me to wait. "Got your truck ready?" he finally asked. "No," I answered. "I-went-home-last-night.-Just-got-here." "Go get your truck." "What's-the-truck-number?" I asked. "I gave you that last night!" he exclaimed with a fuss. "Write-it-down-for-me,-please," I said. "I-could-forget-between-here-and-the-yard." (And I could.)

"I don't have a piece of paper," he said. I found something to write on and asked him again for the tractor number, then wrote it down. When I got out to the yard it was that same trashed truck. I went back in and told Astro Turf that this would take a while. Probably quite a while. He stiffened. "Go fix your truck and let me know when you're ready to go," he said petulantly. I reiterated that it would take a while and it did.

If this was my truck from here on, we were not leaving the yard until it was fit for human habitation. This human. Me. The rigid non-smoker. And this currently stinky truck. I had no interest in Astro Turf's games.

It wasn't as bad as 3579, but this wasn't a quick spritz with a spray can or two. About this same time I stopped at the shop and asked if they had an old sleeping bag or something, since my gear was locked up in 3579 over at Cummins and supposedly I would have this truck permanently. They did! I was led over to a dumpster and there was a bunch of perfectly good blankets, clothes, storage baskets, a nice, new-looking Carhartt jean jacket extra, extra large. All good stuff that need a bath and I didn't put 2-and-2 together yet.

This truck had been retrieved with most of someone's gear in it and the gear went into the dumpster and the trash was left in the truck. I gave the nice Carhartt jean jacket to my favorite DM, who was working that Sunday morning, after she said she was an extra, extra, just like the jacket. Okay, fine. Nice jacket. It didn't occur to me... Gordon had recovered this truck and dumped the driver's all good gear. Be advised...


Written July 16, 2013 at home, six miles north of Spencer, IN. All rights reserved by author.

 

Dispatch #20--Indy B to Indy B to Indy B to Indy E to Terre Haute B to Greencastle E to Indy
172 miles..........................................................................................$ 53.32

Once I had gotten this stinky tractor squared away, cleaned out and cleaned up Astro Turf said we needed an empty for Terre Haute, that outfit that sends you on those multi-stop loads to KY and TN. There was none on the yard and, of course, since Gordon has no system and doesn't care how much of my time it wastes because it's like water, only less. At least bulk water costs 5 cents a gallon. I had to check every trailer in the yard and we had no empty. All unpaid time so far.

I reported back to Astro Turf who was still petulant and #####y. "I'll give you a list of places that might have an empty over around Shadeland," he said. No addresses, he didn't have addresses yet. Just names. The first was a grocery distributorship which I looked up on my iPad and then bobtailed over.

The guard shack said they had no Gordon empty. There were Gordon trailers, a number of them. Astro Turf wanted me to check all of them and get the trailer numbers of all of them so I got that info and relayed it back to him. All either sealed or loaded. At this point, I didn't know if this is paid time or not. You can see above it's paid, all right. 31 cents a mile.

The next stop was a pallet company. No empty there.

The third was a drugstore distribution center and I did find an empty. I hooked that; it was some before noon and I QCd Astro Turf that I had an empty and the trailer number. I needed the address in Terre Haute. No response. Fifteen minutes later I QCd Astro Turf again. Then fifteen minutes after that. An hour later, sitting there in the sun I finally called my regular DM and asked if Astro Turf was there or at lunch. "He's here," came the reply, "He hasn't left for lunch yet."

I couldn't tell her to tell fatso to call me with the Terre Haute address because she's an extra, extra and a very good and very nice person. A couple minutes later the address in Terre Haute comes across my QualComm. I took the empty to Terre Haute and spotted it there. Then Astro Turf wanted me to bobtail to that big, distribution center in Greencastle and get another empty to bring back to the yard. Which I did.

$53.32 for the day, although I wouldn't know how much until the following week when I got my pay details. I had already decided that this wouldn't happen again. If my truck was in the shop Gordon could keep this job. I would later see other, obviously new, drivers caught in Astro Turf's web, playing gopher for him.

When I got back to the yard I went into the office and told Astro Turf that was enough for today. I was heading home to play with my furry kids. I was surprised to see him turn to the other DM, the good one, and say, "Victor's had a long day. Let's let him go home."

Right toe! Good boy, Astro Turf! Gr-r-r-r-r!



Written July 16, 2013 at home, six miles north of Spencer, IN. All rights reserved by author.

 

Back into 3579

Monday, I got back up to the yard just before 8 a.m. I was glad to see the Intimidator there and Astro Turf not there. I told the Intimidator I had a few things in this new, formerly stinky truck and the rest of my stuff in 3579 over at Cummins. No one could reach Cummins by phone, turned out their phone system was down so I drove over. I had confirmed over the weekend that Cummins was locked up and 3579 was there.

I saw a young mechanic in my seat and the ISX engine roaring. At the counter I explained that I had my gear in 3579 and wanted to know when it would be ready. They said it depends. If the SuperSeal is successful, this afternoon; if not, probably Wednesday at the earliest because it's 14 hours to replace the engine cooler.

Well, I've been assigned another truck, I'd like to get my gear. Then, if you're not wearing steel-toed boots they have cute steel toes with straps to the back of your leg that go over whatever you have on your feet. Clunk, clunk, clunk as you step. I pulled my car up and started getting all my gear out. My, oh, my, how we accumulate after just a little while. Working part-time, I empty my T800 every week, just in case, and it goes quickly. I don't accumulate and it stays in one of my two '97 Mercury Sable station wagons. (That's right. Two. Same year. One tan, the other maroon. That's another story.)

When I got back to the yard I mentioned that to the Lead Mechanic. He said, "Oh, yeah. And if the head is bad that's 43 hours of shop time." Whoa. Here's where Gordon foots the bill. About 11:00 o'clock the Intimidator calls me. "Vic, I've got bad news for you." "What's-that?" "Your new truck has to go into the shop for a PM."

Sure enough, I checked the window sticker and the new, formerly stinky truck really was due for a PM. Okay, fine. About this time I see a yellow, somewhat dirtied Columbia backed up to the freight dock, something that doesn't happen much. I went over and the driver is an owner-operator--almost. He works for an owner-operator and has for years.

"Hey! I've got to take you to lunch," I say. "I need to know as much of what you know as possible. Plus, I need to see if my old truck is coming out of Cummins today. Maybe you could help me get it. How long are you going to be here?" I had already learned that if I needed to wait for someone from Gordon to help me get 3579, it would be no faster than it took to get 3579 over to Cummins. I didn't have much in the new truck, so got my gear out of the new, formerly...

I called Cummins and 3579 was good to go. I drove us over; he drove my car back; and we went to lunch. I'll deal with lunch later and you'll know quickly why. After we had lunch and I had started to get my gear back into 3579--that I had removed from 3579 earlier in the morning, I saw a skinny dude sitting in the driver's seat of the new, formerly stinky truck, smoking! He was a Gordon trainer, that truck had already been assigned to his trainee and he sat in what-had-been-my-seat smoking in the truck I had laboriously cleaned up the day before for no pay. No, I'm not making this up. What's more, that trainer's so thin he looked to me like full-bown AIDS. Probably not, just looks like to me.

Yes, Gordon is a smoker's paradise, I thought. I preceded that with the standard epithet starting with 'F'.



Written July 16, 2013 at home, six miles north of Spencer, IN. All rights reserved by author.