No rest for the wicked, but some for me

Saturday, December 3^rd, 2011

      It has been said that on the 7^th day that god rested. Rest is good, as it helps maintain your capacity to produce whatever it is you produce. What I wonder is, “Why does an omnipotent being need to rest?” That and I wonder why people are applying the concept of time to something that is timeless, without form and cannot be described. That said, I'm no god. Well, maybe in a different plane of existence, sure, but not in this one. Not being a god, I don't get the seventh day off. I get the eighth day.

      So today, I am resting. I could just as easily have driven a good 10 hours today without so much as batting an eye. Maybe a few bats, since it does get kinda tiring, but you get the idea. The only thing preventing me from motoring on down the road is federal regulations. The FMCSA (Federal Motor Carrier Safety Act) dictates that drivers may not drive after working more than 70 hours within an 8 day span. These working hours include both driving and not driving worky stuff, like checking in at a shipper, or inspecting your truck. But I'm not thinking about that today. I am resting.

      Fargo, North Dakota is where I'm stopped at, but I see no signs of a woman with a wood chipper. For that I'm grateful. It feels like autumn up here (oh wait.. it is) in that it isn't 12 degrees out. Well it was warmer. Now that the sun is setting, it is back down below 20 degrees, as per usual for here this time of year. I'm parked at the Petro Stopping Center, off exit 348 on I-94. Nice enough place. Wouldn't have thought I'd need to lock stuff down.

      Being that I'm resting today, I slept in (until 8 am! holy cats!) and have not been doing much. I went into the truck stop a couple times to get out of the cab for a bit and to stretch my legs. There's not much to see around this part of town, unless you feel like walking into Home Depot and browsing for a while, but meh. Returning from one of these little jaunts, I noticed that the cover that sits atop my chain rack is lifted up. Odd. I attributed it to the wind at first, then I started counting my chains. Someone actually stole one set of tire chains off the truck!

      For me, this is not a big deal since I technically have enough to chain up my truck in a pinch. One set has a broken link which may flap around and make some noise, but I can deal with that. By using a bungee cord. Still, the very notion that someone would feel so desperate as to steal a set of chains just makes me stop and consider our economic system. How sad is it that some guy feels a need to steal because he doesn't feel that he has enough money to buy a set? Why is money so artificially scare? To maintain value? If you say so, but that still operates on the principle of scarcity and competition which is contrary to the nature of the world.

      It is especially counter to Taoism. Well, according to the quick reference guide on religions I found in the truck stop. This is what I do on off days. I putter around and look at neat stuff. There is a rack full of laminated quick reference guides for all sorts of thing, like religion, reflexology, cooking, weights and measures, the United States, and a whole bunch of other things that I've already forgotten about. It was nice to read such a simple version of Taoism. Nothing ever need be complicated.

      Tomorrow, I plan to leave at 0400 local time and be on my way back west. A maintenance appointment awaits me, and what looks to be some more down time. I'm also considering going back to the Woolley Mammoth to get my banjo (!). However, the idea of moving all of that stuff from one truck to another company is a bit daunting. Not only that, there is the orientation I'll need to attend and that means a shared hotel room. All of that is well and good. My only concern is that there won't be a truck waiting for me at the end of orientation. Which may mean waiting, or getting bussed to someplace else to get into a truck. Like I was at this company. Perhaps I'll hold out on the banjo a bit more.