Wednesday, November 30, 2005 This is just a small part of the 55 acres that make up Butchart Gardens in Victoria B.C. I put this scene up to show that I'm at peace with how things went with the doctor this morning. I did'nt gain much ground but I did learn a few things. I'll post about it tomorrow. Trucker Bob blogged at 2:01 PM | Morning folks. Well, I was right, our little dump of snow lasted just long enough to make things sloppy. As I remarked to Margaret's comment, I miss the four seasons. Unfortunately around here we just have two, real nice and really not nice. Still, for those who enjoy winter sports the drive to the ski hills etc. is a short one. Today is kind of an anxious one for me as I have a scheduled appointment with the specialist this morning. Him and I have always gotten along well but that might change today, because I've got some tough questions for him. Like why did I have to learn of a procedure called Gamma Knife Surgery from a web-site. The Mayo Clinic site explains how this procedure is almost specific to the type of tumor I have. It is a non-invasive surgery that was never offered me as an option. Instead I was told that I would'nt survive normal brain surgery, that I would forever be on this blasted medication that is slowly draining me, and good luck. Well, doctor, I'm not accepting that anymore! I also want another appointment with the neuro-surgeon. Like the specialist, I get along with this fellow too, but damnit, if I'm willing to fight why the hell are'nt you helping me? Let's just say that this squeaky wheel is going to get greased today. I'm certain it won't do much good but my opinion of the complete jerk I have for a so-called family doctor will be well voiced. I thought that I might have to open a big can of whup-ass before I went into Vancouver today, but just talking about it has got the juices flowing. They want us to take responsibility for our own health, well that's exactly what I'm going to do. I want some damned answers. To be fair, I know they have more than one patient to worry about, but this is the only patient I'm worried about. Booper is coming with me so I won't get too carried away, but still, I want answers. Hopefully I'll be back in time to put something up later, but if not I'll see ya tomorrow. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:17 AM | Tuesday, November 29, 2005
While I realize, and appreciate, that I have readers from varied backgrounds, I had no idea that even my feathered friends drop by once in a while. This fellow, to prove he read the Saturday Chuckles, is doing the Hokey-Pokey. Before you apply to have me commited, remember that laughter is the best medicine. Trucker Bob blogged at 12:16 PM | Morning folks. While it is not a winter wonderland out here this morning, we did get a little dump of snow last night. I have'nt caught a forecast yet but because it's still snowing it looks like we'll end up with a few inches. Trouble is it's never cold enough here, so by the time the sun comes up it will turn to slush. Still, it's kind of pretty right now. Other than that little weather update, I just wanted to pop in and say Hi and wish you a decent day. My little "buddy" is messing with me a bit so I'm not in a real playful mood, but things sometimes change within hours so I should be back later today. Take care folks. Trucker Bob blogged at 4:41 AM | Monday, November 28, 2005
Okay folks, put your funny hats on and write a caption for this picture of Preznint McDressup. Put words to the Secret Service agent's thoughts as he struts by them. Trucker Bob blogged at 12:30 PM | Morning folks. I'm sure most of you are like me in that you've heard of truffles, know that they are a type of food, are expensive, but beyond that not much else. Not that I'm smarter than anyone else but I did know they are a type of fungus that grow underground, and are harvested using pigs that root them out. Where is this going you ask, well hang on a minute, sheesh!, what a demanding bunch. (insert smiley here). What started this nonsense was an article I read in the paper of a truffle auction held recently in London, England. A group of first-class chefs from around the world gathered to bid on a particularly large specimen recently dug up. It weighed 2.866 lbs and fetched a price of, are you ready for this, $134,400, or $46,894.63 per pound! If you open the link I provided you'll read of some of the purported qualities of this fungus but, good-night nurse, give me a break. Yesterday, here in Vancouver, we had our "Super Bowl", the annual Grey Cup game between the winners of the Eastern and Western Conferences. This year it was the Montreal Alouettes against the Edmonton Eskimos. Being from the West I naturally was rooting for Edmonton and they did indeed come through with a win by a score of 38-35. Not sure if you're a football fan Jude, but if you are, congratulations! It was kind of a bummer for the local fans because our team, the B.C. Lions, did'nt make it to the final round but it was still a heckuva game. Not at all one-sided, in fact it took overtime to finally get a winner. B.C. Place, where the game was held, was sold out and the 60,000 fans certainly got their money's worth. Because the city that host's the game is changed each year, it sometimes happens that the home team has to watch from the sidelines, but still, a good time was had by all. I have'nt read the paper yet this morning, but I'm sure the usual yahoos are sleeping it off in the drunk tank. On a scale of 1 to 10 this post will probably register about .01 with most of you, but hell, it got me through another one, so I'm happy with it (sort of) . If you're a complete masochist come on back later today, I've got a picture that you can write a caption for in your comments should you choose to play along. If not, I'll go into a big ol' pout and it won't be pretty! Had enough?, good, so have I, see ya later. Trucker Bob blogged at 4:14 AM | Sunday, November 27, 2005
Morning folks. Today's poem is the quintessential Robert Service. Although I came along some time after the Gold Rush, I spent enough time trucking up there to have it embedded in my soul. Enjoy! THE SPELL OF THE YUKON I wanted the gold, and I sought it; I scrabbled and mucked like a slave. Was it famine or scurvy, I fought it; I hurled my youth into a grave. I wanted the gold, and I got it -- Came out with a fortune last fall, -- Yet somehow life's not what I thought it, And somehow the gold isn't all. No! There's the land. (Have you seen it?) It's the cussedest land that I know, From the big, dizzy mountains that screen it To the deep, deathlike valleys below. Some say God was tired when He made it; Some say it's a fine land to shun; Maybe; but there's some as would trade it For no land on earth -- and I'm one. You come to get rich (damned good reason); You feel like an exile at first; You hate it like hell for a season, And then you are worse than the worst. It grips you like some kinds of sinning; It twists you from foe to a friend; It seems it's been since the beginning; It seems it will be to the end. I've stood in some mighty-mouthed hollow That's plumb-full of hush to the brim; I've watched the big, husky sun wallow In crimson and gold, and grow dim, Till the moon set the pearly peaks gleaming, And the stars tumbled out, neck and crop; And I've thought that I surely was dreaming, With the peace o' the world piled on top. The summer -- no sweeter was ever; The sunshiny woods all athrill; The grayling aleap in the river, The bighorn asleep on the hill. The strong life that never knows harness; The wilds where the caribou call; The freshness, the freedom, the farness -- O God! how I'm stuck on it all. The winter! the brightness that blinds you, The white land locked tight as a drum, The cold fear that follows and finds you, The silence that bludgeons you dumb. The snows that are older than history, The woods where the weird shadows slant; The stillness, the moonlight, the mystery, I've bade 'em good-by -- but I can't. There's a land where the mountains are nameless, And the rivers all run God knows where; There are lives that are erring and aimless, And deaths that just hang by a hair; There are hardships that nobody reckons; There are valleys unpeopled and still; There's a land -- oh, it beckons and beckons, And I want to go back -- and I will. They're making my money diminish; I'm sick of the taste of champagne. Thank God! when I'm skinned to a finish I'll pike to the Yukon again. I'll fight -- and you bet it's no sham-fight; It's hell! -- but I've been there before; And it's better than this by a damsite -- So me for the Yukon once more. There's gold, and it's haunting and haunting; It's luring me on as of old; Yet it isn't the gold that I'm wanting So much as just finding the gold. It's the great, big, broad land 'way up yonder, It's the forests where silence has lease; It's the beauty that thrills me with wonder, It's the stillness that fills me with peace. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:45 AM | Saturday, November 26, 2005 Morning folks. This week's edition of Saturday Chuckles, containing a few chortles and guffaws I hope, is made possible by contributions from: IVY...A lady walks into a drug store and tells the pharmacist she needs some cyanide. The pharmacist said, "why in the world do you need cyanide?" The lady explained she needed it to poison her husband. The pharmacist's eyes got big and he said, "Lord have mercy, I can't give you cyanide to kill your husband! That's against the law! I'll lose my license, they'll throw both of us in jail and all kinds of bad things will happen! Absolutely not--you CANNOT have any cyanide!" The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her husband in bed with the pharmacist's wife. The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, "Well now, you didn't tell me you had a prescription JUDE...Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for her sweetness and kindness to all. One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea. As he sat facing her old pump organ, the young minister noticed a cut-glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water. In the water floated, of all things, a condom! When she returned with tea and scones,they began to chat.The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist. "Miss Beatrice", he said. "I wonder if you would tell me about this?" pointing to the bowl."Oh, yes" she replied, "isn't it wonderful? I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease. Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter." BIG DAVE...Trucker Bob probably knows all about vehicle inspection and operator licensing from his days driving a rig. What he may not know is that Santa has to jump through some of the same hoops to make his annual Christmas Eve trip. This past week an inspector from the FAA went over his sleigh inch by inch, making sure it was flightworthy. The reindeer were checked out as well. Then he told Santa to hop on in, as the inspector wanted to see if the jolly old elf still could wing it through the skies. After Santa got in, the inspector hopped aboard as well, but not before loading up a double barrel shotgun. "What's that for" Santa asked. The inspector replied, "I want to see how you handle a sudden engine failure." And finally this one from Anna, the lady at the bank that "looks after me". Hey!, I heard that. Larry Laprise is dead. With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment, it is worth reflecting on the death of a very important person, which almost went unnoticed last week. Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote "The Hokey Pokey," died peacefully at age 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. They put his left leg in. And then the trouble started. Shut up. You know it's funny. The cartoon to go along with the joke was found and supplied to me by Sadie Hawkins. Stop by tomorrow, if you can, for another poem by Robert Service. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:45 AM | Friday, November 25, 2005 A lady that has become a faithful reader mentioned that she likes butterflies, so being the suck-up I am (NOT!) I found this one for her. It is called a Blue Clipper. With this also being post #100 I feel I should be, ahem, suitably rewarded. (God I'm a bear for punishment!) Trucker Bob blogged at 12:08 PM | Morning folks. The other day I talked about how in this fast paced life we lead we simply don't, or can't, take the time to appreciate the natural beauty around us. In some cases we even take it for granted. Then something happens to illustrate the point. Yesterday a lady that has become such an appreciated "blog friend" provided a link in her comment on a picture that I put up of a wonderful scene in her province, Alberta. See what I mean?, it took someone from another province to make me realize what a wonderful place British Columbia truly is, and that I've got to get out and enjoy it. Please open that link and see if you don't agree. Her and I have jokingly agreed that one of us is going to win the lottery and invite all of you up for a visit, so I guess I'll have to start buying a ticket once in a while. Yesterday also illustrated another point I've mentioned in the past, and that is that IMing, commenting, etc. is such a poor way of communicating. My joking about my "harem" and teasing a "certain someone" about her hold on the title of Head Concubine was taken by her in the spirit it was given. Unfortunately, because of the limitations of this medium, her teasing me back did not come out the way she intended, and that caused both of us anguish. Everything is straightened out, thankfully, but be assured that I would never disrespect her, or anyone for that matter. A good lesson was learned. So Jude, you're back to #2 squeeze, and be warned, there's another member of the "harem" that has provided me with some soothing music so don't look back, she could be gaining! I don't know how to put smilies on here so I'll just add...wink wink, nudge nudge. If this attempt at having a little fun does'nt work I might just have to quit goofing around and get serious. NOT!!! Have a decent day folks, and for those who had the big turkey day, get the book out that has the recipes for 365 different dishes using left-over turkey. Yum yum, turkey jam. Back latertoday. Trucker Bob blogged at 4:07 AM | Thursday, November 24, 2005 Early morning light in Banff National Park, Alberta. This area is just a short drive west of Calgary on the Trans-Canada Highway. I think you can click/enlarge . Trucker Bob blogged at 1:10 PM | Morning folks. Well, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is I seem to be on the mend, the bad news is it looks like you're going to have to put up with me for a while yet. Since most of you don't seem to mind, maybe it's not so bad after all, especially for me. It goes without saying that having you guys in my corner makes it easier in this fight-to-the-death battle I have on-going with this blasted tumor. While that might seem overly dramatic, believe me it is'nt. Without getting too technical, thankfully, because I am unable, what is happening is the tumor has taken over the pituitary gland, which is the master control gland if you will. Because the pituitary is the gland that controls, by hormonal signals, the thyroid, adrenal, testes, etc., every once in a while my system gets so out of whack that I have to dig down and fight. It's amazing what sheer will-power will do, because I absolutely refuse to lay down. I was given 6-8 months in July '02, and I'm still kickin' ass. So don't cry for me Argentina, I'm doin' plumb fine! While I'm sorry to hear that my Sweet Georgia Peach is also feelin' a mite puny, I feel it necessary to point something out to her. My harem is growing by the day, and her hold on the title of HEAD CONCUBINE is tenuous at best. With a medical background I'm sure she is familiar with the saying "physician, heal thyself", because frankly darlin', cookies just ain't going to cut it much longer. (I am SO going to get my ass kicked for this!) As for the mention of the testes, don't be concerned, the lads are doing just fine. Remember, these are the same lads that kept me ahead of many a load of logs that were trying to crush me coming off the side of a mountain. I say this just to let Timmy know that there are many more rounds in this fight, and I've just begun. Thanks to everyone for your comments yesterday, truly. To have someone like Margaret say what she said is humbling to me. The fact is ma'am, I have so much respect for you, what you do, and how you do it. Also a special thanks to Hoss, who we all know has far more on his mind than how I'm feeling. To my American friends, HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Trucker Bob blogged at 3:11 AM | Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Morning folks. I realize that this is a bit of a cop-out, but I just can't get motivated enough to even natter. I could mention that I don't feel the best, oops, I just did, but that would be more of a whine than a reason. We all have days when we're a little off our feed. I've made reference to my "butt-whuppin' posse" a number of times and thought I should show you a picture of two of the members. It should be obvious that these two desperados are more than capable of "cuteing" you into submission. If I can get my you-know-what together I'll see you later today, if not I'll be back tomorrow. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:21 AM | Tuesday, November 22, 2005 Another one for you Jude. Sunset in the North Cascades just below me in Washington State. Are we square now? Trucker Bob blogged at 2:31 PM | Morning folks. My new friend Jude, the self-described "hippie-chick", but who I refer to as my little "babushka", because of her Ukrainian descent, put up a post on Saturday that I highly recommend you read. Open all the links she provides and you'll see why she is proud to call herself an Albertan. The reason I chose this as a topic today is to point out how many of us simply don't take the time, or have the time, to appreciate the natural beauty around us. While looking at the breathtaking scenery shown in the links I realized that I had seen those very places thousands of times, but never really seen them. With me it was always head- down, ass- up truckin', no time to smell the roses if you will. Always fighting time constraints, mad about something, etc. etc., that I used as reasons when in reality they were excuses, and sorry ones at that. Too wrapped up in my own little world to appreciate the real world around me. When I think of the things I roared by at 65 mph in the 4 plus million miles I travelled, without at least slowing down long enough to take them in, it drives the point home. Unfortunately too soon we get old, too late we get smart. Of course it's not too late to make amends, so to speak, but with my little health thingy it's a matter of the spirit being willing, but the flesh getting weak. So folks, don't make my mistake, slow down once in a while and soak up all you can. So Jude, thanks for putting that post up, and even more thanks for the memories. I knew if I hung around long enough there would be something about you I'd like. (The devil made me say that! heh heh) Back later today, unless I'm hunted down and slapped senseless for that last remark. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:38 AM | Monday, November 21, 2005
Such beauty in a common, ordinary Barn Owl. Trucker Bob blogged at 2:00 PM | Morning folks. You'd think that after a week of doing nothing but copy/pasting old posts I could come up with something to yak about, but once again I'm drilling a dry hole. So be warned, if you proceed past this point be prepared for some totally inane nattering. Hey, wait a minute, what would be the difference from the normal bill de fare around here. God!, I'm dying. I do have a question though. How come it took 67 years to get the ladies fighting over me? (see comments last post) At this stage of my life I'm like the old dog that still chases cars, when he finally catches one he's too tired to do anything with it. With the size of my "harem" I may have to take on an apprentice to do the chasing so that I can concentrate on the (never mind!) See what I mean folks?, this is not pretty. Perhaps I should click flush instead of Publish. With all the stress associated with holiday planning, family get-togethers, etc. I've often wondered about celebrating Thanksgiving so close to Xmas as you folks in the US do each year. By the time it's all over you must be wore out, plus quite a bit lighter in the wallet. Here in Canada with Thanksgiving in early October we at least get a chance to take a breather before preparing for Xmas. If it was'nt for family I could easily do without all the hoopla. While I was sad to read of Hoss losing his wife, I took comfort in the knowledge that they lived in such an enlightened state as Oregon. With the proper checks and balances of course, each of us should be able to have a say in our passing. I'm not a religious person, but I can't believe the Lord would want us to suffer needlessly. There simply comes a time when reality must be faced, and compassion shown. To my American friends, enjoy your Turkey Day, and if you're travelling by car, please drive safely. Leave early, take breaks, and hopefully I'll see you when you get back. Oh, and if you want to have a little fun while at the big meal, check out what Goober offers. Back later today with a picture that I hope you'll enjoy. Trucker Bob blogged at 4:01 AM | Sunday, November 20, 2005
Morning folks. This poem by Robert Service is the one that hit home with me, and got me started on his work. Although my life was certainly not a failure, there are lines in here that were written for me. Enjoy!
THE MEN THAT DON'T FIT IN There's a race of men that don't fit in, A race that can't stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, And they climb the mountain's crest; Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And they don't know how to rest. If they just went straight they might go far; They are strong and brave and true; But they're always tired of the things that are, And they want the strange and new. They say: "Could I find my proper groove, What a deep mark I would make!" So they chop and change, and each fresh move Is only a fresh mistake. And each forgets, as he strips and runs With a brilliant, fitful pace, It's the steady, quiet, plodding ones Who win in the lifelong race. And each forgets that his youth has fled, Forgets that his prime is past, Till he stands one day, with a hope that's dead, In the glare of the truth at last. He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance; He has just done things by half. Life's been a jolly good joke on him, And now is the time to laugh. Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost; He was never meant to win; He's a rolling stone, and it's bred in the bone; He's a man who won't fit in. Trucker Bob blogged at 4:22 AM | Saturday, November 19, 2005 Morning folks. Today's rib-ticklers are from Peter: A 10-year-old boy was walking down the street when a car pulled up beside him and its window was wound down. "I'll give you a bag of candy if you get in the car," said the driver. "No way, get stuffed!!" replied the boy. "How about a bag of candy and $10?" the driver asked. "I said no way!" replied the irritated youngster. What about a bag of juicy candy and $50, eh?" quizzed the driver, still rolling slowly to keep up with the walking boy. "No! I'm not getting in the frickin' car!" answered the boy. "Okay, okay. I know what you want. I'll give you $100 and a bag of candy. "How many times do I have to tell you - NO!" screamed the boy. "What will it take to get you into the car?" asked the driver with a long sigh! The boy replied: "Listen Dad, you bought the Volvo, you live with it!" From Big Dave: A man was selling his hang-glider to his best friend's great surprise. "Why?" the friend asked. "You've always loved hang-gliding." So the man explained. I just heard this story about two old-timers hunting in the hills when suddenly they both looked up, startled at something in the sky. One of them lifted a rifle and fired. The other man said, "What the heck kind of bird was that?" The shooter said, "Dunno." So his buddy asked, "Do you think you got him?" The man replied, "Can't say. But I sure made him drop that man he was carryin'." And last, but not least, from my little babushka, Jude: Q: What should you do if you see your ex-husband rolling around in pain on the ground? A: Shoot him again. Q: How can you tell if a man is well-hung? A: When you can barely slip your finger in between his neck and the noose.. Q: Why do little boys whine? A: Because they are practicing to be men. Q: How many men does it take to screw in a light bulb? A: One - he just holds it up there and waits for the world to revolve around him, or three - one to screw in the bulb and two to listen to him brag about the screwing part. Q: What do you call a handcuffed man? A: Trustworthy. Q: What does it mean when a man is in your bed gasping for breath and calling your name? A: You didn't hold the pillow down long enough. Q: Why does it take 100,000,000 sperm to fertilize one egg? A: Because not one will stop and ask directions. Q: Why do female black widow spiders kill their mates after Mating? A: To stop the snoring before it starts. Q: Why do men whistle when they are sitting on the toilet? A: Because it helps them remember which end they need to wipe. Q: What is the difference between men and women . ? A: A woman wants one man to satisfy her every need. A man wants every woman to satisfy his one need. Q: How does a man keep his youth? A: By giving her money, furs and diamonds. Q: How do you keep your husband from reading your email? A: Rename the folder to "Instructions Manuals". Enjoy your day folks and stop by tomorrow, if you can. Trucker Bob blogged at 2:51 AM | Friday, November 18, 2005 No words necessary. Enjoy! Trucker Bob blogged at 12:53 PM | Morning folks. That was a bit of fun yesterday with the "names" in the comments. It all started with an e-mail from this lady that I forwarded to a few people that played along. If I was more adept at this stuff I'd show you what I'm talking about, but to copy/paste would take up enough space for 3 posts. Oh well, no biggie, but it was fun. It's also been fun this week, for me at least, with the "posts from the past". At the risk of wearing out my welcome with you guys I'll put this one last one up for now. This one was in response to a reader that wanted to know about a trip I made to Arkansas. If I was to write this one today my sentiments about certain things would not be as harsh, but it is as written at the time, Feb 28th. The WDNNST was simply me goofing around, as in "We Don't Need No Steenkin' Titles". The week-end here will be the usual, Saturday Chuckles, and a Robert Service poem on Sunday. Now that I've been taught a certain technique I'll be able to put the poem up as it should appear, I hope. Also one of his longer ones that speaks to his, and my, love of the Yukon. WDNNST First off, let's get rid of those stupid letters in the title. Numbering the posts should be sufficient differentiation(wow, what a word) between them for my "legion of fan". An economy of scale, if you will. As for the "legion", I appreciate every one of them, even the ones I have to bribe. One of my "legion" has been wanting to go to Batesville Arkansas. OK Rob, lets load up and make some miles. Remember the rules; get in, sit down, hold on, and shut up. Picked up a load of mill equipment...lathes, presses etc. at a place that was re-locating to Arkansas. Seems they had learned how to do things the Murkan way, as in starvation wages, no benefits, and a building that was practically given to them. The mill was located in Crow's Nest Pass, Alberta. A more beautiful place is hard to find. They had been paying approx. $24/hr with full benefits, down there it would be approx. $7.50/hr with no benefits of any kind. Oh well. The trip down went OK, although I had to play cat-and-mouse with a few scales because I was a bit heavy. All part of the game. Last state to run through before arriving is Missouri. The home of the original "throwed rolls". You want another bun, here she comes! Interesting area, friendly people. Then we arrive in Batesville. First thing I did was look around for the cameras, because I was sure I was in the middle of a scene out of the Twilight Zone. Like going back in time. Drive along slowly, looking for a place to park and ask directions. Ah, there's one of those chain steak houses, Rustler or something, with a monster parking lot. Pull in, go to the far back of the lot, park, and go in to eat. Ask the "manager" if it would be OK to park there for the night, he said sure, so sat down to eat. First thing I noticed was that every one seemed to look alike. Oh well, must be in the shallow end of the gene pool. Next morning, Sunday, is when the fun started. Sitting in the truck, catching up on paper-work, and see this older, wild-eyed, ashen-faced guy heading for me. Roll the window down, and he starts yelling at me to get off the property..now! I explained that I had got permission, but he did'nt care, he was the owner, and go now. Was letting the truck warm up a bit, but got sick of his yelling, so I pulled out onto the street. He must have had a bad morning wrestling with the snakes at his church! Was'nt long before the local version of Buford T Justice pulls up, and he starts yelling. Christ, are'nt these people getting ANY. I finally got Bubba settled down by explaining that all he had to do is tell me where this place was...and stop yelling! So Buford pulls around in front of me, hits the siren a couple of short blasts, turns on the disco lights, and off we go! I've seen Presidential parades that did'nt get as much attention. Pulled onto the property, got out of the truck, and walked out to the road and thanked Bubba for his help. He seemed disappointed that the big show was over. Even though it was Sunday, there was a few guys working inside. Turned out one of the guys was from Alberta, down there to set things up. He said if I was willing to run the fork-lift, I could back in and un-load right then. You betcha! Got that done, he signed my paper-work, and we went for coffee. After chatting with him for awhile, he agreed, that whole place is in a time-warp. Lucky for me, he had to stay, I was outta there. Called my dispatcher at home, and told him that if he did'nt have a load for me right there, I was getting outta Dodge, he did'nt and I did. Besides, I was afraid of cross-pollination. Was going to call Bubba to lead me out of town, but figured he'd be elbow-deep into a bag of jellies, so hauled ass until I crossed into Oklahoma, not exactly cosmopolitan but light years from where I just left. Pulled into the first place that had room to park, was welcomed by friendly people, and spent a pleasant day at this little road-side inn. I'm sure there are lots of fine people in Batesville, just don't go looking for them in a big-truck. Fact is a lot of towns treat truckers like that. They order the loads, but don't want to accomodate you when you arrive. Trucker Bob blogged at 4:34 AM | Thursday, November 17, 2005 Psst! Mommy, I'm really hungry. Wake up Mommy! Trucker Bob blogged at 12:37 PM | Morning folks. Since none of you have hollered "uncle" yet, and in fact the more masochistic of you have said you enjoy(?) them a bit, here's one I put up on Feb 27 of this year. The lesson here is that every once in a while something will happen to make us stand up on our hind legs and roar that we're not going without a scrap. This was such a time for me. EPIPHANY After reading what I posted yesterday, I wondered who the hell wrote it. It could'nt have been me, because there is no gd way that some little twit with a cutesy name like "Timmy" is going to get the better of me without a scrap. Besides, when the going gets tough, the tough get drunk. So I poured myself a Big Gulp, a glass of Gibsons, 12yr aged, Gold Label rye whiskey. Yee haw! Then I took Timmy out back and bounced him off every tree in the yard. He now understands that I did'nt claw and dig for 66yrs to get this far, and then roll over for him. Game on! What caused me to stand up on my hind legs and roar was meeting an old trucker buddy at the store while shopping for "healthy" food. You know, green stuff that rabbits eat. Hell, Ive had pizza in the fridge long enough to turn green, and was told it was'nt healthy to eat it. Make up your mind. So, after finishing our shopping(no damnit I did'nt buy any donuts), we went for lunch and a nice long visit that provided me with an epiphany of sorts. What a treat it was to sit with an old bud and talk over old times. This guy and I ran double(2 drivers in the truck) more than 30yrs ago on the Alaska Highway. He was one of the few guys I could run double with, he bathed when possible, kept the BS down, was a good driver and was just a fun guy to go through tough times with. We could always find some humor, no matter what. When it's your turn in the bunk, you've got to have trust in the guy driving, not hanging on to the mattress like a crab to avoid sheet-burns as your "buddy" slides you from one end of the bed to the other on the corners. I laughed more yesterday than I have in a long while. Talking about things like the time we were both so beat out and hungry, because nobody gets proper rest or food in that environment, and we were looking forward to getting to the top of Summit Mountain and stopping to eat at the lodge. You got it, it was closed. That's when the argument started over who ate the last can of beans out of the jungle box. After a few choice comments about each other's ancestry, we decided to "take it outside". Little cursing, little pushing, couple of tentative swings, and the match was on. So, here we are, basically up on top of the world early on a Sunday morning, rolling around in the snow trying to inflict grievous bodily injury on each other over a $%#@ can of beans! Was'nt long before we both saw the humor in this nonsense, and started laughing before anybody got hurt too badly. Got up off the ground, brushed each other off, jumped back into the truck, and headed for Fort Nelson. For the un-initiated, that's called male bonding! After a couple of hours of reminiscing over things like this, some of which I'll share with you later, with a true friend, I realized that no man can come from a background where you had to be tough to survive, can let some candy-assed little weeny with a cutesy name get the better of him. That visit did me more good than all the damn doctors combined. Besides, my bud told me that if I don't start showing the cajones I used to have, never mind Timmy, he'd kick my butt. Hah!, he could'nt do it then and still can't(just kidding). Now that he's gone home, I've got something to confess..I ate the damn beans!! Spending that time with him has sure re-charged my batteries, my so-called epiphany of sorts. Got to go now, hear some whinnying out in the stable. Timmy must have told the girls I'm back. Hope everyone out there has a friend that can do for them what was done for me yesterday! Trucker Bob blogged at 3:34 AM | Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Just went for the color today folks. This is a Scarlet Lorikeet. Trucker Bob blogged at 2:02 PM | Morning folks. This idea of bringing up posts from the past has turned out to be a good one, for a number of reasons. It makes me realize what a great bank of memories I have to draw on to help me over the little bumps in the road, that we all encounter. Finding that some of you guys enjoy them is just an extra bonus. I've said it before, but it bears repeating, you're a great bunch of folks. Although I'm off the road I'm still truckin', the only difference is instead of a gear-stick, I'm using a keyboard. This next little post I put up on Jan 23. It's interesting how I felt back then and how well I'm doing now. But there is a lesson there. RETIREMENT Over the years I've followed hundreds of thousands of vehicles down the road and seen my share of bumper stickers. They ran the gamut from funny to ignorant. One that sticks out in my mind now said, "Retirement ain't for sissies". Other than having a little chuckle, I paid it no mind. Bad move, because now that I'm here I'm starting to see the wisdom in that statement. Other than the normal aches and pains that come with getting older, this stage of life is, like the Bush monkey says, hard work. To say that I was ill-prepared is laughably under-stated. The day I stepped out of the truck for the last time, I looked around and thought, now what? For the first time in oh so many years I did'nt have a long way to go and not enough time to get there. Now I had nowhere to go and nothing but time. That's when I realized that I had not prepared for this. Not having ever been a self-important person, at the same time I could'nt help but notice that life, as most people know it, was getting along quite nicely without me. Talk about a fish out of water! In a way I'm still flopping around. This computer helps a lot, but it's just a crutch to support the lameness I imposed on myself by not preparing. So, guys(and gals), please start thinking about the day you step down. This should be a wonderful stage in a person's life, but like everything else, you'll only get out what you put in. I'm not sure if it's ever too early to start thinking about it. While it might seem I've painted a rather bleak picture, it is only that one aspect. The rest of my life is plumb fine. Thankfully I have a great family, who kick my butt when needed, like when I get a little cranky. A little cranky?, hell, a bear with a sore twat gets a little cranky. Even though I've been divorced many years I get along great with my ex, so can't blame her. Nope, I'm the one that dropped the ball by not preparing. On a lighter note, some of you may have heard that sex after sixty is like shooting pool with a rope. Not true! All it means is you have to line your shot up better or you'll never get your balls in the hole. Oh, lighten up, you've told worse. Trucker Bob blogged at 4:22 AM | Tuesday, November 15, 2005 While I don't agree with anything Preznint Smirky McDressup does, I will admit the boy has got himself a fine ride. Of course the only reason he calls himself a Texan is that he can't spell Connecticut, his real birth-place. There, I just had to get a little Bush-Whackin' in, I've been too good lately. Trucker Bob blogged at 12:49 PM | Morning folks. Since yesterday's story did'nt drive you to desertion, I'll try another. Keep in mind that those fleeing will be hunted down and, aww, you know the rest, (think posse!) The Ice trip happened in '73, this one in '78. While the first one took just a matter of weeks, this one lasted for almost a year. Out for 5 or 6 weeks, home for a week or so, then out on another tour. I was finally told by a certain person that if I went out again to take all of my clothes. Did'nt blame her a bit. Tough life on a family, myself included! This one I posted on Jan 29, this year. 1978 Most people have a year they can think back to and remember something that changed their lives, even if only for a short time. Could have been a marriage, a birth, a death, a promotion, a new house, the list is endless. In my case, 1978 was a year that I had the opportunity to do something that was so different to what I had been doing that, yes, it certainly sticks in my memory. The early and middle 70s I had been hauling God knows how many loads of pipeline equipment to Alaska, but that project was near to completion and the loads were getting spotty. Thats when I was offered a job that at first sounded like a joke, but after not too much thought, decided, why the hell not, go for it! One of my better decisions. The job was hauling equipment for bands(mostly rock) when they are on tour. Was it different than running to Alaska at 40 below, let me answer this way, do fat dogs fart? What an education this ol' diesel cowboy got. The first band I hauled for was Heart. The Wilson sisters, Ann and Nancy. Big, bold, and oh so talented Ann and shy, quiet but equally talented Nancy. What a sweetheart she was. For some reason she liked me, and every sixth day, when the band was taking a night off, her and I would have dinner to-gether. Luckily I clean up real good, so I did'nt feel too out of place. The company I worked for during this period was called Overdrive Trips. Think Bachman Turner Overdrive. To start the first 5 week tour I flew to San Francisco, picked up the truck and trailer, then off to Hollywood(weird) and load up sound equipment. Got that done, then hauled ass to the mid-west. Met up with the rest of the trucks, six in all, and the roadies buses at the first venue, and off we went. The band would play 5 nights in a row, usually 4 to 5 hundred miles between concerts, then take a day off. All that was expected of me was to show up at the end of each concert, fed, watered, rested and with a truck that was ready to run non-stop to the next venue. For that I was paid well and treated even better. For example, while in Memphis on a day off, the band hired a limo to take me to Graceland Mansion and told the driver that whatever I wanted he was to do. By now I'm getting into it, so I sat back and said..show me the town. What a hoot! Also, met the Rolling Stones there, but that's another story. At the finish of the 5 weeks we ended up playing at the Cotten Bowl in Dallas, the week-end of one of Willy Nelson's picnics. Instead of taking down the sound gear after Heart's show on Saturday, I was asked if I would stay over for the country show on Sunday. Would I? hell I would have paid money. On Sunday, here I am sitting at a big table, and being introduced to, Willy Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Jessie Coulter, Kris Kristofferson, Rita Coolidge, and Charlie Daniels. They were all very nice to me, especially Waylon. If it sounds like I was a little star-struck, well guess what?..I was! That's enough nattering for now, next time I'll talk about doing two Grateful Dead tours. Instead of having dinner with Nancy, it was me and my new bud Jerry Garcia. Talk about going from the sublime to the ridiculous! Actually Jerry was a helluva nice guy. See you all(y'all) later. Trucker Bob blogged at 4:20 AM | Monday, November 14, 2005
Another great example of PhotoShopping, besides we needed a little color here today. I can almost taste them! Trucker Bob blogged at 3:21 PM | Morning folks. Today will start a week of "posts from the past". Damn, that sounds rather ominous, almost scary! Kidding aside, I'm simply going to put up some stories that I hope you find interesting. This one I posted on Jan 30 of this year. ICE To a lot of people ice is something to drop into a glass, in cube form, when preparing their beverage of choice on a hot day. Some in colder climes get a bit more exposure to it as in scraping it off their windshields or trying not to fall on their butt while walking on it. The fitter among us even play games on it such as ice hockey, skating and curling. That's right Bubba, curling, a large recreational winter sport in many parts of the world. Google it. Some even use it as a medium to produce wonderful sculptures, but to most it is not an intregal part of their lives. Not so to many people and businesses in the north. To them it is an extremely important link, as it were, to the outside. Once the lakes, of which there are thousands, are frozen over, ice roads can be built to haul in much needed supplies. Without these roads everything would have to be flown in, and you can just imagine the cost. While there are flights for things like perishables, medical supplies and things of that nature, most wait for freeze-up to bring in the bulk of their freight.One such place is a small radium mine that I hauled a load of diesel fuel into for their power plant(generator). This place is so far north that the nearest civilization is in Russia, and not that far away either. During so-called freeze-up, government inspectors are monitoring the ice formation by air and on the ground. Also during this time a route is mapped out, as no two years are ever the same as to ice conditions. Once the ice is deemed safe, it's load up and haul you know what. It might interest some of you to know that 12in of good ice will support a fully loaded semi weighing in excess of 100,000lbs. 48in will support a loaded Hercules aircraft. But be careful, not all ice is the same. It takes more knowledge than I have to be able to spot the bad stuff, but luckily in the convoy I was part of we had an old-timer to keep us out of trouble. When you're crossing a lake such as Great Bear, which is 200 miles across, you'll encounter many obstacles. Sometimes you're on ice like glass, other times waiting for the cat(bull-dozer) and grader to punch a hole and smooth a path through the pile. The trip consists of hop-scotching from lake to lake, some sheltered, some open, so conditions are always changing. White-outs, waiting for a herd of cariboo to cross, throwing a parachute over the truck to change a fuel pump at 48 below, changing a wheel on the truck, 60 miles from shore, and watching your trailer wheels slowly sinking are just a few of the fun things to do on this cruise. Oh, by the way, there are no fine dining establishments along the trail, so you better pack a big ol' jungle box. Bring along enough to last a few weeks, because other than the one hot meal you'll get at the mine, you'll live out of that box. When Emeril Lagasse hollers Bam!, it means one thing, but out here it means the chunk of Polish sausage you wedged between the turbo-charger and the exhaust manifold, is ready. Hey, you've got a source of heat so you learn to adapt, or eat out of a can. Besides, a baked potato with a hint of diesel exhaust, yum-yum. No matter how many times you are told that as long as the ice is snapping and cracking you are safe, it's little comfort when you're standing beside the truck having a wiz, and admiring your penmanship as you write your name, when a big ol' crack runs between your legs. Into the truck, release the brakes, in gear and haul ass out of there before you even think of putting your pen away. This is getting too long and I have'nt touched on half the story. But I am going to say one thing, if my health would allow it, I would do it again in a heart-beat. Too bad the youngsters they're kicking out of driving schools these days could'nt experience some of the things that go into making a well-rounded trucker. Hell, I could teach a monkey to shift gears. Some things can't be taught, they've got to be lived. But that applies to all walks of life. P.S. Tomorrow a story about hauling equipment for rock bands on tour. Bands like Heart, The Grateful Dead, Trooper, and even Willy Nelson and my bud Waylon Jennings. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:29 AM | Sunday, November 13, 2005 Good news folks. The courier from my crack investigative team has just arrived with the info I've been expecting. The long-awaited launch of a "certain someone's" new site will be tomorrow, with what I hear is a" get-to-know the new her" post. Good luck Vick, and give 'em hell! Trucker Bob blogged at 3:53 PM | Morning folks. Before we get to today's poem I'd like to tell you of what I plan to do on this page over the next few days. Because there are so many new readers lately that have yet to meet the real me, I'm going to provide links to some of the posts from my previous site, Over The Road. Some truckin' stories, some funny stories, but mainly stories that provide a look at who I am and how I got here. I beg patience from my older, faithful, readers, but the new guys deserve a look at my past. Hell, I'm going to read them, might learn something! And now, our regular Sunday guest, Mr. Robert Service: SECURITY Young man, gather gold and gear, They will wear you well; You can thumb your nose at fear, Wish the horde in hell. With the haughty you can be Insolent and bold: Young man, if you would be free, Gather gear and gold. Mellow man of middle age, Buy a little farm; Then let revolution rage, You will take no harm. Cold and hunger, hand in hand, May red ruin spread; With your little bit of land You'll be warm and fed. Old man, seek the smiling sun, Wall yourself away; Dream aloof from everyone In a garden gay. Let no grieving mar your mood, Have no truck with tears; Greet each day with gratitude- Glean a hundred years. See you tomorrow folks. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:56 AM | Saturday, November 12, 2005 Here is the image that Karen sent me earlier. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:53 PM | Morning folks. In todays edition of Saturday Chuckles we have submissions from Big Dave: An artist, an architect and a city planner were at a strip joint in Las Vegas, enjoying the show and admiring the beauties. "God had to been an artist," said the artist, watching the women entertainers. "The graceful curves, the soft colors, the beauty--god must have been an artist." "No, god must have been an architect," said the architect, looking at the women. "Notice the delicate structures, the fine design, the elegance." "Well, god sure wasn't a city planner," said the planner. "No city planner would put the major recreational area next to the sewage disposal site." From Peter: It was a sunny Saturday morning on the first hole of a busy course and I was beginning my pre-shot routine, visualizing my upcoming shot, when a piercing voice came over the clubhouse loudspeaker. “Would the gentleman on the ladies tee back up to the men’s tee please.” I could feel every eye on the course looking at me, I was still deep in my routine, seemingly impervious to the interruption. Again the announcement, “Would the man on the ladies tee back up to the men’s tee PLEASE.” I simply ignored the guy and kept concentrating, when once more the guy yelled, “Would the man on the ladies tee back up to the men’s tee PLEASE.” I finally stopped, turned, looked through the clubhouse window directly at the person with the microphone, cupped my hands and shouted back, “Would the person in the clubhouse kindly PLEASE shut up and let me play my second shot.” From Jude:Virginity like bubble, one prick, all gone; and, Baseball is wrong: man with four balls cannot walk. Sorry for the dis-jointed way this came out, but I'm still way down on the learning curve. Call it on the job training. I also had one from Karen that has animation in it but, try as I might, I can't get it to work. I'm going to exercise a little proprietary privilege and stray from today's theme to share something special with you. My son Bob is home with his family this week-end and stopped by yesterday for what turned out to be a wonderful visit. I sincerely wish that each and every one of you will one day know the utter pride, and joy, I felt when he wrapped me in a big ol' bear-hug, looked me in the eye, and said "Love ya, Pop". It is said that in this life you will get what you give, so maybe I did'nt do too bad after all. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:23 AM | Friday, November 11, 2005 Well folks, I thought I'd end the week with a big ol' shot of CUTE. Found this over at watertiger's, but we're buds so she won't mind. Oops, she's here. Enjoy your week-end! Trucker Bob blogged at 1:13 PM | Morning folks. Because during my working life Friday was just another day, the letters TGIF never really meant much to me. But this week was different. Being able to say, happily, "Thank God It's Friday", means that I've made through in good shape. Booper is home and doing well, I'm hanging in, and for that I give thanks. I also give thanks to you guys because you really do make a difference with your kind words and wishes. By sharing a few things in my life I'm finally seeing the wisdom in the words "no man is an island". Because of the life I led I had to be physically tough, and was, but there was no need to be such a hard character that I kept people at arm's length. Once I realized that people did'nt give a damn about how many times I was first truck to the top of the hill, or whose needy ass I just kicked, things started getting easier. I'm still learning this, thanks in no small part to you guys, but it truly is better late than never. Because I've been far too slack on getting around to visit and say hi to show my appreciation, I'm going back to answering my comments, individually, each morning. My feeling is that if you take the time to stop by and comment, I should show some respect and acknowledge your effort. Besides, it's been so long since I was snarky that I'm afraid of losing my touch. NOT! Actually, I like those of you that answer on the comment itself, so how about someone teaching me how that is done? Now that I am reasonably fit for human consumption you'll be safe in calling me a dumb-ass, but I should warn you that my butt-whuppin' posse is always ready to saddle up and ride. Now that I've thanked you, bared my soul, and threatened you, I guess I should leave before I really step in it. Have a good week-end, and for those that can make it by it will be the usual here. Saturday Chuckles and Sunday poem. WWOTD...Yesterday...Antipelargy...Love and care of children for their parents. ...................Today...Brabeum WOTD...Yesterday...Wen...Enormously congested city. ...............Today...Rom...(think a Cher song) QOTD...The candidate you support recently admitted to having an affair. Back later today. Happy TGIF. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:28 AM | Thursday, November 10, 2005 For those who need to get there in a hurry. Not many seats, but boy can it haul butt! These examples of PhotoShopping fascinate me. Humour me folks, as the tag-line says, I'm just wasting time. I think this is one that can be clicked open. Trucker Bob blogged at 12:15 PM | Morning folks. I'm able to start today off with more good news. Booper called me yesterday morning about 10:30, FROM HOME! How great is that? She will have a nurse come around to change the dressing etc., but if I feel she needs extra help I'll hire a private nurse for her because that seems awfully quick to be released from hospital. She's a tough ol' boot but still, 18 hours after major surgery seems a bit much. Glad you liked the scenic picture that Bob sent. That one shows the first little snowfall, but as winter sets in he'll send more so you can follow along. Forgot to tell you to click it open, you'll get a better feel of the natural beauty. I had always thought I would end my days in the Yukon but my little health thingy made me put those plans on hold, but this area comes a close second. In some ways it's even better because it does'nt get as bitter cold. Funny thing about people, those in the North would gladly trade places with me here by the ocean, but my heart is up there. Go figure. I've got another son, Brian, working in northern Alberta at Fort McMurray that will soon be in the 40 below stuff. He's been up there 5 years now so he's used to it, besides he's tougher than a two-dollar steak. The third son, Michael, is still here building houses, but not that long ago he was building in Japan. Yep, the boys do get around, wonder who they take after? Their ages are: Bob 44, Michael 43, Brian 42. Once I learned how to do it, I got real good at it. Poor Booper had one by the hand, one in her arms, and one in her womb, and me on the road all the time (well, not ALL the time). Sorry for getting all nostalgic there, but it's good to count your blessings once in a while. One of the nice things about getting a little older and having your life's work done, is that you have the time to realize how truly fortunate you are. When I see everything that is going on the world, I give thanks daily. All the more so because of all the new "friends" I'm meeting while driving this "truck" around the blogging community. My crack investigative team has managed to obtain a copy of the proposed template for a certain someone's new site. Don't want to ruin the launch, reported to be within days, but I swear I can smell the blossoms surrounding the grand ol' home. WWOTD...Yesterday...Allantoid...Shaped like a sausage. ...................Today...Antipelargy. WOTD.......Yesterday...Agonarch...Judge of a contest. ...................Today...Wen (think downtown LA) QOTD...You forget to give your boss an important message. Y'all come back, hear? (Okay Bubba, that's enough!) Trucker Bob blogged at 2:53 AM | Wednesday, November 09, 2005 In this morning's post (below) I mentioned my son had sent some pictures. Being a low-tech guy in a high-tech it blows me away that he took that yesterday afternoon, sent it to me this morning, and I managed to get it on here without goofing up. I put this up to show the country that I love. Mountains in the distance, clean air, and lots of elbow room. With Booper successfully through the surgery, and my son sending pics like this to let me know he's thinking of me, you might as well hand me a Bud Lite because it ain't gonna get any better than this! Trucker Bob blogged at 12:31 PM | Morning folks. Finally some good news here, there's certainly been enough of the downer stuff lately. Booper had her surgery yesterday and all went well. Her niece called just after talking to the surgeon and told me that he said there were no complications, and she would sleep through the night. Whew! Now we just have to wait until the biopsies from the lymph nodes are done and the results are known. There are times when I get a little pessimistic about things, but in this situation I'm very optimistic. She's a very strong woman, with lots of support, and I feel things will be fine. I'm often asked why I care so much about someone I've been divorced from for 17 years. Well, the fact is that I can't stand to see a stranger hurting, but the mother of my sons, who I spent many years with, how could you even ask that question? You could'nt hold a big enough gun to the side of my head to make me live with her, but if you ever gave her any trouble you'd need that gun when I came after you, assuming our sons did'nt get to you first. It's called respect, something she has earned in abundance! My most appreciated tech assistant, Karen, put a Stat Counter on here for me last Saturday, and it warms the cockles o' me heart to see the support you guys are giving me. So much so that I have decided to show my appreciation by awarding a prize. The 1,000,000th visitor will receive a voucher for an evening of fine dining. A gastronomic tour de force, if you will. Dress will be optional, and the only thing that will be asked of you is: Would you like fries with that? Of course if said visitor is also a commenter I will blow the budget and Super Size it! Son Bob sent me pictures yesterday from the Kootenays, where he is working, of a road coming out of the bush in full winter dress. He said he could see me barreling along there with a big-assed load of logs leaving a cloud of snow behind me. So can I sonny, so can I, but these guys are making the fact that I can't do that anymore a lot easier for me. I've trucked all over North America, but was always happiest when it was just me and the elements. Running the Alaska Highway, hauling logs, 100 miles from shore on a frozen lake, those were the things I enjoyed. New York City, Los Angeles, etc., forget it, don't miss that at all. Whoa, 5:15, better send this to press, enough nattering. WWOTD...Allantoid WOTD.......Agonarch (think Simon Crowell) Sorry for messing up yesterday by not giving new words. QOTD...A passenger in your car does not put on his/her seatbelt. Later dudes, and dudettes. (Oh, act your age!) Trucker Bob blogged at 4:11 AM | Tuesday, November 08, 2005 Just when I needed a little pick-me-up I found this pretty wudda boidie, and thought I'd share it with you. It's called a Taveta Golden Weaver, but by whatever name, it's another example of the beauty around us if we'll just look. Trucker Bob blogged at 12:36 PM | Morning folks. I want to start today off by thanking you for your encouraging me in my continuing struggle with my little health thingy. Although I've been warned that I probably would'nt survive the surgery there are times, such as these, that I'm almost ready to take my chances. I know you mean well Margaret but, yes, the pain-killer, percocet, is addictive. In fact when my JERK doctor gave me the last prescription he flicked it on the counter, said "here's your narcotics" and walked out of the room. I really should have kicked his ass for talking to me like that and suffered whatever consequences. The reason he walked away quickly is that I had warned him once before about his attitude. Ever since my family doctor retired it's been hell trying to find a good replacement. Peter, I know you mean well also but I am truly not trying to be a martyr, just doing the best I can. Enough about me! Booper's surgery has been moved to 1:30 pm today, and get this, she was told to show up 90 minutes before that time. No more being admitted the day before, getting prepped, etc. Now, for major surgery such as she's going to go through, you get a booklet to read. Between us her and I worked for 70 years, and paid through taxes and medical premiums to maintain a world-class health care system, and it's come down to this. No wonder us older dudes get a little cranky at times. With things like this, compared to me an ol' grizzly with a sore twat gets a LITTLE cranky. I also want to thank you guys for stopping by and commenting. I'm getting behind on returning the favor, but I'll get through this stuff, get my poop together, and be my usual sparkling self. (OH PLEASE!). Kidding aside, we all have these little bumps in the road, and it helps me just being able to natter (whine?) about it. Thanks for listening. Wish her well today, please. WWOTD...Yesterday..Albedineity...Whiteness WOTD......Yesterday..Agravic...Having no gravity (got 'er Karen!) QOTD...You have the opportunity to learn the sex of your baby. Back later today. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:29 AM | Monday, November 07, 2005 In an attempt to lighten things up a bit here today I thought I'd put up this picture of Donald Trump's dog. Or is that The Donald himself? Hmmm. Trucker Bob blogged at 12:17 PM | Morning folks. Once again I find myself staring at this blank page hoping that something will pop up to yak about. Perhaps I should heed the wisdom in the old adage that says "If you don't have anything to say, be quiet", or words to that effect. I'm sure all of you go through it occassionaly so I guess it's not a biggie. Besides, I have a bit of a reason. Every two months I get a prescription for pain-killers to help me handle Timmy when he acts up. They are prescribed at 1 or 2 every 4 to 6 hours, but the most I've ever taken is 1 at a time every 4 to 5 hours. When they run out, usually 2 to 3 weeks, I take myself off them in an attempt to avoid becoming addicted. While it might seem a noble effort, I've got to admit it's getting harder each time. Today is day 3 of this "withdrawal" part of the cycle and really, nobody should have to feel this bad, no matter what you're trying to do. So if I make less sense than usual (is that possible?) the next few days, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Thinking of what Booper is facing to-morrow (mastectomy and lymph node removal) puts things into perspective for me. Suck it up and quit whining! WWOTD...Albedineity WOTD.......Agravic...Think space travel QOTD..A child mistakes you for someone famous and asks for your autograph. See you later to-day with a picture. Trucker Bob blogged at 5:20 AM | Sunday, November 06, 2005 Many of us spend years searching for happiness and in so doing make ourselves unhappy. Once we realize how elusive it is and accept our lot in life, playing the hand you're dealt if you will, we find contentment. We then see that the happiness we sought is just a state of mind, whereas being content is where true happiness lies. The following poem says it oh so much better than I ever could. CONTENTMENT An ancient gaffer once I knew, Who puffed a pipe and tossed a tankard; He claimed a hundred years and two, And for a dozem more he hankered; So o'er a pint I asked how he Had kept his timbers tight together; He grinned and answered: "It maun be Because I likes all kinds o' weather. "For every morn when I get up I lights me clay pipe wi' a cinder, And as me mug o' tea I sup I looks from out the cottage winder; And if it's shade or if it's shine Or wind or snow befit to freeze me, I always say : Well, now, that's fine... It's just the sort o' day to please me. For I have found it wise in life in life To take the luck the way it's coming; A wake, a worry, or a wife-- Just carry on and keep a-humming. And so I lights me pipe o' clay, And though the morn on blizzard borders, I chuckle in me guts and say: It's just the day the doctor orders". A mighty good philosophy Thought I, and leads to longer living, To make the best of things that be, And take the weather of God's giving; And winds be edged and sleet be slanting, Heap faggots on the fire and say: "It's just the kind of day I'm wanting". Trucker Bob blogged at 3:50 AM | Saturday, November 05, 2005 Before I put the yuk-yuks du jour up I'd like to explain what I meant by "generally G-rated". By no means am I a prude, in fact I can, and sometimes do, tell jokes that are simply gross even if they are funny. I'm simply trying to show some respect. If you decide to participate, please, send whatever, it will be posted verbatim. Now, onward: A woman golfer suffers a nasty bee sting and leaves the course to go see her doctor about it. "What happened?" asked the doctor. "I got stung between the first and second hole," replied the lady golfer. The doctor replied, "You must have an awfully wide stance!" A couple had been debating buying a new vehicle for weeks. He wanted a truck. She wanted a fast little sports car. The couple fought endlessly about the issue. Everything she liked was out of their price range. "Look," she said. "I want something that goes from zero to 200 in just a few seconds. Nothing else will do. My birthday is coming up, so surprise me!" He did just that. For her birthday, he bought her a brand new bathroom scale. Two dogs were walking down the street. One dog says to the other, "Wait here a minute, I'll be right back." He walks across the street and sniffs this fire hydrant for a minute, then walks back across the street. The other dog says, "What was that about?" The dog first dog says, "I was just checking my messages." An army officer asks to borrow a dollar from a soldier. "Sure, buddy," says the soldier. "That's no way to address a superior!" screams the officer. "Now let's try that again. May I borrow a dollar, private?" "Sir, no, sir." A man staggers into an emergency room with a concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes and a five-iron wrapped tightly around his throat. Naturally, the doctor asks him what happened. "Well, it was like this," said the man. "I was having a quiet round of golf with my wife, when at a difficult hole we both sliced our balls into a pasture of cows. We went to look for them, and while I was looking around, I noticed one of the cows had something white at its rear end. I walked over and lifted up the tail, and sure enough, there was a golf ball with my wife's monogram on it, stuck right in the middle of the cow's butt. And that's when I made my big mistake." "What did you do?" asks the doctor. "Well, I lifted the cow's tail and yelled to my wife, 'Hey, this looks like yours!'" Enjoy your day and come on back tomorrow, if you can, for another poem by Robert Service. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:45 AM | Friday, November 04, 2005
You guys have been so good to me this week I've brought you all a treat. Pick your favorite and enjoy, but don't even think of going near that black one! I hid it back there for a reason, IT'S MINE! Incidentally, I've got my "only reads the first post" tracker turned on and guilty parties will be hunted down, beaten with a switch, held up to public ridicule, and finally, ex-communicated! Don't force those you hold dear to go through life bearing that cross. Trucker Bob blogged at 12:24 PM | Although there are times when our lives seem to fill with ominous clouds there is always some sunshine coming through. An example of this is your kind thoughts and well-wishes for Booper while she gets through this latest battle with cancer (see post below). She stopped by yesterday, and I must admit that she is handling it better than I am. I'm fairly good with some things, but seeing people hurting is not one of them. She sends her thanks. We now return to our regularly scheduled programming. On my last site, Over The Road, I had a feature called Guest Writer Friday (GWF) whereby each week a post written by one of you guys would appear. It was a great way of meeting new bloggers and making new "friends". It went over quite well, judging by the responses, in fact well enough that I'm thinking of a similar thing with the Saturday Chuckles. Everyone has a favorite joke or two, so why not share them with us? In fact take over my page on Saturday. Simply send me your post in an e-mail and I will post it verbatim on your day. If enough people participate I will set up a schedule and announce on the Friday before who the following day's contributor will be. Length and subject would be entirely your choice, although I would ask that they be kept generally "G"-rated. So I'm extending a blanket invitation to join in on what I think will be a fun thing. While driving around the blogging community the other day I stopped at Ivy's and am recommending you do the same. Her posts are good enough that even if she wrote them on birch-bark I'd still visit, but her new template will blow your socks off. I know who did it for her but I'll let her tell you. I'm very comfortable with my page, so I don't linger there in case I get ideas. Hmmm! NOT! Don't know whether you made it around to Hoss's yesterday, but damn he puts up good posts. I've received the first reports back from my crack investigative team regarding the possible comeback of a certain someone. It's sounding as though it's going to happen, and sooner rather than later. As before I'll keep you informed but if what I'm hearing is true, it will be almost a metamorphosis for the person involved. I'll clean up yesterday's words now, and pick them up again on Monday. It will be the usual week-end fare here, Saturday Chuckles and a poem on Sunday. Stop by if you can, otherwise I'll see you Monday. WWOTD...Last one...Citharize.....To play the harp. WOTD....Last one...Celeste....Sky blue. Back later today. Happy TGIF. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:37 AM | Thursday, November 03, 2005 Morning folks. I've had this Blogger page open for over an hour now trying to decide whether or not to share this news because it's not a happy story. With all the sadness in the world I did'nt want to add to it, and also I did'nt want anyone feeling sorry for me because I'm not the person who needs your kind thoughts, it's my ex-wife Booper. Her real name is Betty, but because I have the juvenile habit of giving people nick-names, that became Betty Boop, then Booper. Whatever the name, she called yesterday and told me she was coming over. When I thanked her for warning me in time to barricade the doors and let the alligator loose in the moat, and she did'nt respond with her usual, oh just bite me, I knew something was up. Although we've been divorced for 17 years, we're still, and always will be, friends. She has been a major part of my life for 45 years, through the good, the bad, and the ugly, and still remains the one person in the world that I completely trust. Without question. It has been a long time since there was any slap-and-tickle kind of love between us, but I will admit to a love born of trust, respect, and care for her. She had a mammogram a few weeks ago, that I knew about, but did'nt know that a lump was found. A biopsy was done last Thursday and the results came in yesterday. Malignant! A mastectomy will be done Tuesday at 10 am. While this is horrible news, it's even worse because this will be her fourth cancer surgery. Second mastectomy. Add to this the fact that she is caring for her sister who just had brain surgery to remove a malignant tumor, and you'll agree it's not me who needs your good wishes. She is a strong person, but how much can one person take? Just the telling of this is making me feel a bit better. If you made it this far, thank you for listening. Remember, it's not me that needs your prayers. Compared to her I'm doing fine. We'll suspend the "words" for today. Hope you understand. Wish her well, please. Trucker Bob blogged at 4:39 AM | Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Just got back from taking the dog for a walk. He'll be arriving over the next few minutes. As soon as he's all back I have a treat for him...5 foot-long hot-dogs. Trucker Bob blogged at 2:19 PM | Morning folks. Don't know what happened to the sunset at the top of the page but maybe just mentioning it will cause it to re-appear. Unlike the way I handled it when this sort of thing happened on other pages I've had, I'm not going to sweat it, because that just leads to frustration, or worse. Anyone smarter than I with this stuff, which means every single one of you, feel free to offer suggestions, please. Read something interesting in the paper just now, at least I think it is. Facetiously is the only non-medical term to use all the vowels in alphabetical order. Of course with that knowledge and a dollar you still can't get a cup of coffee, but hey! it got me a few lines of filler, because I'm drilling a dry hole again today. There are rumours that a certain someone that recently stepped back to introspectively consider different paths, or roads, that her life might follow, is making plans for a comeback. I'm going to put my crack investigative team to work on this and will keep you updated , but if what I've been able to learn so far is true it should be quite an event. I've always been blessed with great readers/commenters, but lately you guys are giving me the warm fuzzies. Not sure I deserve the kind words but be assured they are so appreciated. One new person paid me such a compliment yesterday that I won't provide a link because it would seem self-serving, but thank you, I'll try to live up to it. Still on commenters, go to yesterday's and read the great joke that Big Dave left. It is said that music hath charms to soothe the savage beast (breast), well you guys are the music that has soothed this hard-assed ol' dude. I often sit here and marvel at the changes in me, thanks to you guys. Okay, enough of that wussy stuff (but I do mean it), to the words: WWOTD...Yesterday...Blateration...Chatter, Babbling. ..................Today...Citharize WOTD...Yesterday...Rumchunder...Fine silk ...............Today...Celeste (think clear day) QOTD....Your neighbor's dog barks constantly all night. Off to let my alter-ego do a little Bush-Whackin' on other sites. See you later today. Trucker Bob blogged at 3:00 AM | Tuesday, November 01, 2005
The father of one of this page's faithful readers passed away this morning. On behalf of everyone here, Dave, I offer heart-felt condolences. Trucker Bob blogged at 12:45 PM | Morning folks. Hope the little ones enjoyed themselves last night, although I'm not sure it's just them that get into the spirit. Right, Goob? I think it's neat when the parents can get involved with their children in things like this. Because I was on the road so much I missed out on too many things of this nature, and I regret it. Don't even get me started on the missed birthdays, school events, anniversaries(sp?) etc. etc. It's fine to think I did what I had to to keep the family unit safe and secure, but still it bothers me in retrospect. Whoa! big fella, quit beating on yourself. Besides I would have probably eaten all their candy, because I do have a sweet tooth, one of the few of my own that I have left. Speaking of teeth, I'm paying the price now for not wearing my partial plates all the time over the years. Because I'm a "gagger" I just did'nt like wearing them, now they don't fit properly. So it looks like getting the rest of my own removed and fitting a pair of "store-bought" chompers. Oh joy! Not to mention the $15,000 the dentist wants. If I was sure Timmy was'nt going to put me down it would not be a problem, otherwise I would sooner see it go to my grand-children than some already rich dentist. Funny thing here in Canada, seniors are very well looked after as to health care, prescriptions etc., but with dental you're on your own. Does'nt make sense to me, is'nt dental health part of overall health care? God I'm on the whine today! Lets quit that nonsense and go to Plan B, the words du jour. WWOTD...Blateration WOTD...Rumchunder...(think PJs) QOTD....You are a guest in someone's home and clog up the toilet. Back later today, hopefully in a better mood. Trucker Bob blogged at 5:39 AM | |
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