Banjos without Borders

Sunday, December 11^th, 2011

      Is there a single better feeling than coming home after being away for an extended period? Let me rephrase that. Is there a better feeling than coming home... that I can write explicitly about? That said, I am once again in the United States. The border crossing this time was rather easy. Three simple questions instead of the usual rigamarole. “Where'd you come from? What are you hauling? Where are you going?” Border guards never seem interested in recycled cardboard.

       Between Prince George, B.C. and Mt. Vernon, Washington there are a lot of hills. I'd go into detail about the route, but I've already done so in another blog. There is a lot to be said about winding up on the same routes fairly often. Sure you've already explored the scenery a few times visually. Yeah, the mountains are just as lovely as they were last week. In that sense, it may get kind of old. This is the challenge though; to enjoy the same things again in new ways. Every time we pass through a place, it is not the same as you remember it. There will always be slight variances depending on weather and the amount of time elapsed. On top of that, there is a chance to increase one's mastery with each repetition. That curve posted for 80 km/h? Yeah, I can totally hit that at 100 km/h without incident. It becomes a kind of game to do better than the last time, but with no pressure. And each time is always a bit different.

      Today for example, there was a moose just grazing by the side of the road at dawn. Scared the crap out of me when it moved its head. I thought it was just some brown lumpy thing, like a pile of wood. Further down the same road, I saw a tiny heard of big horn sheep. They were just merrily grazing as if all the passing traffic was a mere pleasantry. A few klicks back, I saw the sign advising that they might be present. Yeah, the signs are a dime-a-dozen and they often get ignored. This time though, I was wondering what it would be like to hit one with a fully loaded truck. I briefly fantasized about clobbering one , then lashing it to the deck above the drive shaft behind my sleeper. Then I considered what it would take to tear the horns off. I think what disturbed me the most was that the first thought to dissuade me from pursuing this in earnest was the idea that the border guards might not be too keen on me bringing a dead animal across customs. If I were in a better mind set, I would have had more compassion for the animal and not considered ripping apart the sack of meat formerly know as its body to collect a trophy. The thought alone of killing a fellow creature of spaceship Earth would have me weeping with pity. If I were in a better mindset. Obviously, I'm not there, since for some reason I thought it would be cool to have a set of bighorns as a kind of gruesome trophy.

      So Now I'm here in the Mount Vernon drop lot, hoping to get a quiet night's sleep before heading into Seattle tomorrow. Not that the city matters so much. And you know what? There was no way I could be so close to Sedro-Woolley and not go get my banjo!!! I'm rather excited to start learning, but perhaps a little daunted by the task. I'm starting from nothing and going from there. One of my former housemates who plays a really good guitar just picked it up and started plucking away, sounding rather good. Then I realize that I am not him, and I need to start some where. I figure that having a musical instrument will be a good lesson for me in that it takes failure and perseverance, and passion to acquire a modicum of skill. Lessons I can sure use in this life time. Speaking of which.. on to lesson 1!


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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.