"Dino Stee of Change"

I notice they've changed their stance from "global warming" to "climate change". Why's that you wonder? Well, I'm thinking the fact it's July and I'm running around in 60 degree weather might be part of the reason. I mean, seriously, it's certainly not warming up much lately. Not that I'm complaining. 

So it's spring time weather in the middle of summer yet polar ice caps are melting. How ever do we explain this?  We call it climate change. And claim that that climate change is brought on by mankind. Well that seems like a sound theory. But I've got a couple questions about that theory. 

Not to discount man's impact on the planet because we do definitely leave an ecological footprint. I'd be a fool to deny that. However, I'm a bit curious, didn't this planet undergo an ice age or 5 before mankind even existed? I believe that, technically, what we are in now is considered an interglacial period. 

So, if I understand this correctly, this planet has undergone many "climate changes" without our help. That's odd, I thought this was all Man's fault. Carbon footprints, greenhouses gases, etc. can't be denied. But I'm also pretty sure that the continued evolution of this planet can't be denied. 

So if greenhouses gases and fossil fuels are the culprits I'm wondering what factories the dinosaurs ran. You figure T Rex was like a supervisor? He might be hard pressed to fill out paperwork with those nubby little arms of his but operating heavy machinery definitely had to be out of the question. In a managerial capacity he had to be nearly useless other than motivation. Maybe the factory owner was a Stegosaurus named Frank. 

Frank: "Hey T, I'm noticing the Anatosauruses are slacking on production. Handle it."

Next day T meets with Frank. "Hey Frankie (he calls him Frankie because, contrary to popular belief, they were close friends) I had a talk with the AU (that's short for Anatosaurus Union) and I ate two members. Their Union Rep, Vinny says he got the point and he'll make sure they step it up. Production is back on schedule." To which Frank would reply, "well done but don't eat too many. It takes those slackers 6 years to reach legal working age. I don't need any flack from the Pteranodons. (They're like the OSHA of the Triassic and Jurassic eras)" 

So they had big Stone Works Factories popping up all over the world creating "climate change", right? But then there was that whole "extinction level event". I wonder what caused that. Things were running so smoothly. 

Maybe it was like this....

T. rex: "hey Frank, we've been experimenting with hydrogen like you wanted so we can increase output. The problem is, we're dinosaurs and don't understand physics or science. You know they don't invent that stuff for another 65 billion years, right?"

Frank: "I don't care. We need to figure it out as we go then. Between the velociraptors trying to start a hostile takeover and these darn climate changes we've started we've gotta do something to up production! And don't trifle me with details!"

T. rex: "yous the boss. I'll get after it. Maybe we can figure out a way to split hydrogen atoms and quadruple production. I'll get the brontosaurus team on it."(With their long necks they were the closest they had to physicists or scientists)

A week or so goes by, (who knows, it could've been a decade; they didn't have calendars back then) and things go all wonky. BAM! Explosions everywhere. So Frank freaks out as he's packing. "What the hell is going on T?!" 

"Well, Frankie, I told you we didn't know what we're doing. Now we've accidentally caused everything on the planet to blow up. We're all gonna DIE!!" 

Oh? That's not how it happened you say? Well then, maybe there's a chance the planet is just doing the same thing it's been doing for billions of years. Little growth spurts then some cooler weather. Are we affecting this any? Maybe. But I don't think it'd change much if we weren't here to kill each other off either. Animals evolve (you know they've found a snake whose tail looks like a spider now? That's some scary shit), plants evolve, isn't it possible that our planet is basically a giant organism that's evolving too? 

How arrogant of us, thinking we are significant enough to make a huge impact on a planet that was here billions of years before us and will be here billions of years after we are gone. It's like fleas fighting over who owns the dog they're on. 

Let's look at it this way, a eukaryotic cell, tiny as it is, has a nucleus. Like the Earth's core. Cell walls like the mantle of the earth and groups with billions of other cells. Like galaxies. 

Our universe extends further than our imagination can reach. So what if we are all basically equivalent to subatomic particles on the tiniest of cells? 

Wanna take that a hair farther? Why not consider the Sun the nucleus of a mere atom with the planets circling it like protons and neutrons? That'd kinda make our entire universe one amazing organism. Large beyond our ability to conceptualize. That idea would make a supreme being like God not only possible but real. 

"The Shirt Off My Back"

I did something today that I still have mixed feelings on. I know my keeper will applaud it "there ya go Christian, honey, you're moving up the evolutionary ladder. It's about time you big ape." Allow me to pause here and explain that I do, admittedly, have weird, ape like musculature on my forearms and I also tend to lean forward on the backs of my knuckles. So she doesn't say that in an insulting manner.

However, it's my "ape man" and "Grog the caveman" sides that are upset with me right now as we decide if what I did was man-like or "intelligent man like". The sobbing is acceptable in this instance and I luckily have a support group of fellow male truck drivers here while I relive my trauma. 

See, I am domesticated in some ways. I know how to cook. I can do my own laundry (although some women may argue over whether or not I do it properly). I kinda clean my bathroom. You get the idea. I'm somewhat house broken. But I'm still a guy which means I'm kinda caveman on certain levels. I'll not deny it. Which makes what I've just done a very difficult decision. 

There are certain things that men have issues doing on the basest of levels. It's only for you ladies that we fight our inner battles to make you proud of us. "If she's happy then she will touch me and tell me she loves me". That's about as far as we tend to think some things out. 

So what have I done? What causes so much inner trauma? Simple. While doing laundry today I, all by myself, decided to get rid of my favorite shirt. Not just any old shirt but my favorite one. The one I've had nearly 12 years. It had finally gotten too many holes and was too thin. 

My keeper has done a great job of slowly improving my wardrobe. I can't deny that. Nor have I been resistant. I've just taken it as "hey, she likes when I look like a non color blind person. I like when she's happy. She smiles at me. Grog like that." She didn't push me to change or to get rid of that old grey shirt. Whenever she saw that I was wearing it I just got that "aww. He's kinda special. Bless his heart, he's just a big dumb animal" smile. The same one I often get when I dress myself. 

Now, for the record, I normally try to recycle and turn old shirts into rags. But this was my favorite shirt so it must be treated with more deference. So, obviously, we had a burial. I said a few words, other drivers expressed condolences, it was pretty somber. Afterward there was silence in the driver's lounge for a while. Occasionally guys would walk by, pat my shoulder in silent understanding. 

For you ladies who aren't yet fully aware of a man's relationship with his favorites, here's the short list: 

His favorite shirt: This means we finally broke it in and made it comfortable. This process sometimes takes 2-3 years. It starts as just a regular shirt and slowly works its way up to "favorite" status by not getting constrictive in the neck or (most importantly) belly. 

Favorite album/band/song: another gradual growth. Sometimes the words bring back certain memories. Usually it's just our go to" jam. This favorite can actually change depending on our mood. Also, if you're throwing away our CD collection then our favorite is probably the one we know you least like at the moment. That's a rebellion thing. 

Favorite food: that meal we will eat even when we're not hungry. Be careful here. Sometimes we will claim it's our favorite even if we hate it. This happens when we know you've tried extra hard to make something special for us. It may taste horrible but we will never tell you that. "Look at that look on her face. You choke this down, smile and tell her you love it. See how proud she is of herself? Don't make her cry, you idiot, whatever you do." That's our internal monologue. You're welcome. 

Ladies, we're guys and we are fairly simple creatures but we learn your different looks fairly quickly. It's a self preservation thing. Let's face it, we can survive on our own but there's a difference between surviving and living a happy life. The quicker we learn the "I dare you, asshole" look the quicker we learn how to not push the envelope too far. 

Consequently, the quicker we learn the happy looks and sounds the easier it is for us to make you keep wanting to claim us. We can be conditioned. Some of us are slightly more resistant than others, I'll admit. But the smart ones learn quickly. 

All we ask in return, ladies, is that you smile when you claim us, you feed us regularly (or at least not get in between Grog and his food), touch us affectionately fairly often and help us learn how to shut up at the right times. 

I was authorized by the local "Man Club" chapter to give away some of these secrets so that women may better understand us. This is a "peace keeping" mission for both sexes. Use this knowledge wisely folks. 

"Trucking Frustrated"

So you think the trucker life seems kinda neat. All that traveling, you get paid to just drive around...

For some people it's not just a job, it's a lifestyle. I know married couples whose truck is basically an apartment, complete with a kitchen. They stay out on the road pretty much year round working and making too much money. I'm not saying it can't be lucrative. Depending on the type of freight you want to haul, the risk and the labor you're willing to put in, most of the time, if you own your own truck and trailer, the money is there. Me, I'll be honest, I generally only work hard enough to keep my income right where I want it. I know that sounds weird. But it's not about how much you make, it's about how much you get to keep. So I stay within a certain tax bracket. 

One of the upsides to tailoring my income is that I usually stay home anywhere from a week to a month and a half. I call that "quality time". It involves camping trips, zoo trips and being schedule free while I'm home. So long as I don't get carried away and spend too much while I'm home, it's actually a nice balance. It's like getting a vacation every month. What can I say, being my own boss means my boss is usually pretty cool with being generous to me. 

I still have to drive and work while I'm out here. During the summers my ex wife gets 6 weeks of visitation so I try to capitalize on that and run hard for 6 weeks, stock pile money for their school supplies and clothes, and start setting aside for Christmas and birthdays. It's not a perfect system but it works. 

Now here's the rub. You get days like yesterday. Or weeks like this one. Different things stress me out sometimes and I don't exactly get restful sleep. I wake up every hour or two and have to fight to go back to sleep. Then I get up at 7 in the morning, headache already there, drive 70 miles to pick up a heavy load. Three nice, heavy tarps later and it's fully covered and I'm fully drenched in sweat. Get back in the truck and the ac isn't really blowing cold air. Excellent start. 

Since I picked up the load in Rhode Island I've gotta drive through Connecticut, New York and New Jersey to get out of congestion. That's not like just driving around the block. All the while that headache is going "hey, I thought I'd keep you company today. You've been thinking about other shit so I thought I'd remove your ability to focus on anything but me." Gee, thanks buddy. 

Stop and go traffic. Wrecks on the highway causing us to stop before we can even go. When we do go it's UUUUPP and down across mountains. Throb, throb. "Dear god, I must have an aneurysm. It's 1,800 miles to Houston. Tell me I'm halfway there already. Crap. 1,500 miles left."

Construction, flashing lights and stopped traffic. "Are my ears bleeding?! Am I having a 3 day stroke?! Make it stop! Make it stop! 

Ok, get it together, man. Find a truck stop that has room for your truck and try to sleep it off. Take a fist full of ibuprofen again. Eventually it'll kick in."

So I finally find a truck stop that's got room for my fat ass and my truck at about 9:00 pm. Of course, that's if I pay $15 for a reserved spot. "Here, take my money. Just let me get off the road for the day." Of course, we've gotta play 20 questions under the glare of the fluorescents first. Truck color? Maroon. Truck make? Western Star. Company? Mercer. Truck number? 11168. Here's your ticket but we're out of tape. Just put it on your dash. Ok ok. 

Now, I've got a routine I follow and I adhere to it strictly when I know my brain is in hyper drive. Because I know me. I focus on shit and forget to do things like eat. So I take a can of tuna and put it on my dash. If I stop and get something to eat then I put my can of tuna away. If I forget to eat then my tuna is there as a reminder. Days like yesterday? I couldn't be bothered to open the can. Straight to bed. Asleep. Awake. Asleep. Awake. I finally crash out pretty hard at one point then BANG! BANG! BANG! Someone's pounding on my door. "Driver! Hey, driver!" What?! What do you want?! "I need to see your ticket so I know you can park here." I might've been a little cranky. "Seriously?! You effing woke me up pounding on my door for THAT?! They have my truck info inside. You couldn't just check there? No. You had to wake me up in case I was a DIFFERENT maroon Western Star with the SAME company and truck number. Leave before I let my dogs eat you."

So I was wide awake, head still pounding, when this dude walked off. At 3 in the morning. 

And that, my friends, is the day in the life of a trucker.