Hide and seek with the brown shirts, pets and woodworking

I have an addiction that I cannot control. Luckily, the things I have to purchase to feed this addiction are cheap and easy to find. Books. I cannot stop reading and order books on a regular basis from Amazon.com since I can find just about anything I want on that website. I'll order three to four books at a time and it'll only cost me $25 to $30 dollars when I buy used books, which is almost every time. Shipping costs cause my totals to increase of course and I'll usually pick the "standard" shipping option to save a few bucks. This time, however, I selected second day air for two of the three books because I wanted to get them quickly. Like most people, I follow the package's progress via the UPS tracking web page. As long as I've been getting my books online, not once have I had a problem with the shipper. That changed today. The brown shirts usually drop by before I go to work in the afternoon so I'll be able to put whatever it is I receive in the house before work. Being small, books are usually left between the doors to keep them out of the weather. The brown shirts have even left things in my recycling bin to keep them off the ground. But today the package was still "out for delivery" as I left for work. I came home around 19:30 for lunch and rechecked the status. The status for the two packages was "delivered" around 17:30. Checked the mailbox, not there. Checked between the front doors, not there. Checked my back porch, not there. Checked between the back doors, not there. I started getting a little angry, but continued looking. The garage, behind the bushes in the front yard, all sides of the house, patio door... Either the brown shirt hid the books so well that I can't find them, or somebody stole them. There's a possibility that the driver changed his mind about leaving the package unattended and will try again tomorrow so we'll see. I just want my books, I didn't think I'd have to play hide and seek with UPS to get them. *grumbles*

The latest woodworking project that I've completed has been interesting and a little sad. I built an urn for a dog's ashes. Well, technically it's a box to store an urn that contains a dog's ashes. The Golden Retriever of a close friend died recently and she asked me if I would build a box to put Scout's ashes in. Of course I said "yes." I used to date this friend of mine a long time ago, so I knew Scout for long time and he was as good a dog and companion as a person could hope for. I'm honored that I could build the final resting place for her best friend. I miss you Scooter.

Bad day for truckers

Today just wasn't a good day for truckers. Our shop has been pretty slow lately but today the shit hit the fan. Trucks were breaking down left and right and we were hoppin' all day. I had a service call out on the side of the interstate for an unlucky fella. This guy was driving a car hauling rig and the wheels on the right side ,rear drive axle of his truck detached themselves. He was lucky that the detached wheels didn't hurt anyone. He found one wheel and when I got there, we went looking for the other one and couldn't find it. I'm guessing it's somewhere in the corn field which is next to the highway. Normally I hate car haulers because the damn things are so low to the ground, but it turned out to be a good thing this time. The fifth wheel (the big plate that connects the trailer to the tractor) on a car hauler is mounted to the very back of the tractor and is only inches from the road. When the tractor's wheels came off, the tractor was resting on the fifth wheel. This saved the hub, brake drum and brake shoes from severe damage. If this had happened to a normal tractor the hub, bearings, brake drum and brakes shoes would have to be replaced since they would get ground up by dragging on the pavement. The driver had a local tire shop come out with two new wheels and tires so all I had to do was replace the wheel studs and wheel nuts. It was a tough job, but it could've been a lot worse. I got it done pretty quick too. The total time from leaving the shop until my return to the shop was four hours and thirty minutes. That includes a parts run.

When I returned to the shop there was a white Freightliner in one of the service bays. I asked the service writer what it was in for and he said the turbo had failed and the air to air cooler ( a.k.a "intercooler") had a crack in it. The truck's owner/operator purchased the truck four days prior to it coming to our shop. The poor guy is almost broke from the truck purchase (it's an used truck btw) and then the turbo fails. The crankcase was overfilled by about two gallons, so I'm thinking that whoever sold this truck knew the turbo was failing. He couldn't get money to pay his bill tonight, so we'll see what happens in the morning. It's a "catch 22" for truckers. They need their trucks to make money, but if they break down and money's tight, they still have to get their trucks fixed or they can't make money.

To top the day off, the trucking company just down the road from our shop had a breakdown in their own parking lot. The truck was idling fine one minute and then *splash*, the coolant resevoir cracks open and the majority of the coolant spills out. It was an easy fix, but it required a two hour drive to aquire the necessary part. It's been a busy day and I'm dog tired, but it's not over yet. I've been the guy on call for the past week and I've been fairly busy. Right now it's 05:16 in the morning and my turn "on the hook" ends in one hour and forty five minutes. That's when the morning shift arrives at the shop and transfers the phones back to the shop. I would normally have gone to bed an hour ago, but when I'm on call there's not much point in going to bed until 06:30 at the earliest. If the phone rings I'll just have to get out of bed anyway. Might as well stay awake until I know I won't be interrupted. *yawn* I might crawl into bed after I post this. Even a short nap would be good right about now.

Under the (musical) influence

The people who know me know that I've been a KISS fan for a long, long time. Some of my earliest memories are of seeing the cover from KISS's first album. I remember my brother, Chris, showing me that album cover and telling me who was who in the band and what instrument they played. That was probably late 1975 or early 1976. What allows me to pinpoint that point in time is remembering seeing the ALIVE album around the house. I remember hearing ALIVE being played on the small record players my siblings had and was totally mesmerized by KISS. I literally grew up with KISS. Like so many boys from the 1970s, I had a favorite band member (Peter Criss) and wanted to be just like him. My best friend at the time, Kevin, and I would pretend to be KISS. Tennis racket guitars and all. In those days, kids like me had no idea of the sex, drugs and band disputes. To the kids of the 1970s KISS was, and still is, the definition of rock-n-roll. I can't remember who said this, but it went like this "If I met someone who had no idea what rock-n-roll was, I'd hand them the ALIVE album and tell them 'This is rock-n-roll'." Let's hop in the time machine...

In the early 1980s, I decided I was going to be like my hero and be a drummer. After years of lessons and practice I got my first drum kit and started to practice daily. I'd put on a mix tape of my favorite KISS songs and play for hours on end day after day. In the late 1980s I was in high school and in band. Now, I'm the youngest of my siblings. The next youngest being Chris, who's eight years older than me. By the time I got to high school the whole phenomenon of "KISS-mania" had passed into the rock-n-roll history books. Consequently, when I played in pep band and jazz band, my musical influence came out. Simply put, I sounded like Peter Criss. In the debates of what drummer is "the best" nobody can ever agree. I think it's crazy to think that just one drummer can be proclaimed as "the best." Peter Criss always gets cut down because he's not as complicated as other drummers. It doesn't matter to me, Peter Criss played with a lot of feeling. He also played some pretty crazy stuff. Trust me on that one. When I was learning to play there were some unspoken "rules" to follow and you weren't supposed to deviate from them. Listening to Peter Criss changed that for me and I started to color outside of the lines. One of the other drummers in band was one of the drummers who could play anything. I was impressed with his ability and asked him for help often. But, he was a bit of a snob. Anyway, the kids I went to school with got used to hearing his drum solos and always went nuts when he showed off. Rightly so, he was an outstanding player. He took care of the soloing to get people riled up during basketball games, pep rallies and the like. However, there were rare occasions where he wasn't around and the second string drummer had to fill in. Can you guess who that was? Yep, me. I loved playing in band, but I suffer from stage fright. I was one of those kids who just blended into the crowd and never drew attention to myself. So, suddenly having the band director pointing at me and telling me to whip out two minutes of drum solo terrified me. I was (and still am) horrible at improvising solos, so I did what any musician would do. I drew on my influences. I would whip out riffs that were either direct rips from Peter Criss or, at the very least, in the style of Peter Criss. Since I wasn't playing as fast or as complicated as the snob, I didn't get the same reaction he did. I didn't care. My classmates had forgotten KISS and, for the most part, didn't recognize anything I played. But, I played what I knew how to play and loved every stage-fright-filled minute of it. My senior year, one of the first things I did was to get transferred out of a study hall into the band room helping the director with the freshmen band. A few older band members did this. It was a nice escape from a boring study hall and I got to spend an hour in the band room. For most of the year, I sat either in the band director's office or a practice room talking with a girl whose name was April. She had some problems, but was still a good person. In the last days of my Senior year April thanked me for being non-judgmental and for just simply listening. She still had two more years to go and she said she was going to miss me "... and those crazy drum solos." I still get a good laugh out of that. OK, back into the time machine.

In the mid 1990s KISS had done a session for MTV's "Unplugged" series and the band invited Ace Frehley and Peter Criss to join them for a few songs. My girlfriend at the time was kind enough to tape it for me and even teased me by calling me at work to tell me how good the show was. I couldn't get to her house fast enough. I watched that tape over and over, smiling from ear to ear the whole time. Later on, I was at a friend's farm, working on a car in their garage, when I heard an announcement on the radio. The DJ said that the original members of KISS were reuniting and were going to do a tour. Make up, platform boots, levitating drum risers, pyrotechnics and all. It was one of the few times in my life that I actually yelled out without thinking. Chris and I went to see them in Chicago and it was a dream come true. I was in that arena screaming, shouting and pumping my fists in the air. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I would be able to hear Peter Criss play a solo. In person. I lost my voice from shouting so much. I had been thinking of getting a tattoo for years and could never make up my mind of what to get. I knew it had to be something that was meaningful to me and it had to be something I wouldn't regret forty years down the road. Then, while at that concert in 1996, I made up (pun intended) my mind. It was going to be Peter Criss. Being at a KISS concert, obviously, allowed me to see tons of KISS related tattoos and I realized something. No matter how good the artist, a tattoo of a persons face never looks "right." So I decided it was just going to be Peter Criss's makeup that was going onto my arm. I drew up what I wanted because I wasn't going to "hope the artist gets it right." The reason I got into music, the reason I listen to what I like and not just what's fed to me via Top 40 radio, is Peter Criss. I've had strange looks from people, but I don't care. The black ink on my arm isn't just for show, it's important to me and I'm proud to show it.

Now, in 2008, I'm still influenced by KISS. The reunion tour was awesome and I saw them another three times with my brother. Peter Criss and Ace Frehley were out of the band again and the whole thing became very clownish. Still, I'm proud of the tattoo on my arm and what it represents. I haven't sat down at a drum kit in years and probably wouldn't sound good if I did, but that KISS influence is still there. I have what I call a "mental jukebox" and when things happen to me, certain songs start playing in my head. When I'm with a certain female I know, what plays on the "mental jukebox" is predominantly KISS. I see her and all of a sudden I hear those drum riffs start playing. I'm still under the (musical) influence...

Move over or slow down!

Part of my job as a truck mechanic involves going out on service calls. If you're not familiar with the trucking industry, the idea of a mechanic coming to you to fix your car might seem odd. The difference is in towing. If you thought having your car towed is expensive, be glad you don't operate a big truck. Having a tractor and trailer towed can easily run over $600. The cost of a tow is bad enough, but then you have to add on repair costs once the rig is at a shop. Most of the time, the most logical choice is to have a mechanic (someone like me) go to the truck and repair it on-site. It can save money and, this is important in trucking, time. Most of the service calls I do are to parking lots of some sort. Truck stops, warehouses, rest areas and the like. But occasionally a driver simply can't make it to a safe haven and has to pull over onto the roadside. For all involved, the roadside is not a good place to be. Most states have "Move Over" laws which require drivers to move to a lane further away from emergency vehicles. Therein lies the problem. Drivers will move over for police cars, fire trucks and ambulances frequently, but won't do it for people like me. I want to make it crystal clear to everyone reading this that service trucks, tow trucks and tire trucks fit into the "emergency vehicle" category. Simply put, if you see flashing lights of any kind on the side of the road, you need to move over. Sometimes it's not possible to change lanes due to traffic and I understand that, but if you can't change lanes please slow down. I don't mean slowing from 75 mph to 70 mph, I mean slow down to somewhere in the 40-45 mph range. Sometimes I have to be on the traffic side of a truck and having someone whip by at 70 mph just a few feet away scares the hell out of me. The thing that really gets my blood boiling is seeing a vehicle coming towards me that can easily change lanes, but doesn't. I guess sometimes that phone call or text message is more important than the safety of a person on the roadside. I'm guessing that the people who can't be bothered to change lanes or slow down have never been on the side of an interstate highway. I had a close call a few months ago that scared me to my core. I had to be on the traffic side of a truck and was very close to the white line. I'd check for traffic and do my work when no vehicles were coming. I always keep one eye looking up the road so I don't get surprised. So, I see a truck coming and duck into the space between the truck I was working on and the trailer it was pulling. Well, not only did the oncoming truck not move over, it didn't even slow down. It was also dangerously close to the white line. When that truck roared by there couldn't have been more than a few inches between its right mirror and the left mirror of the truck I was working on. I'd say it was about two feet from me. My hat was blown off my head, road dirt got blown at me and I was sure that I'd pissed my pants (I didn't). In the split second that I could see into the cab of the passing truck, I noticed the guy was yakking away on his cell phone. There were no other vehicles near so he could have safely changed lanes, but he didn't. It was a Schneider rig by the way. I take mental notes of the assholes who don't pull over if they can. Anyway, I stayed composed long enough to finish the job and get back to the shop. Then I started shaking. I thought about how easily I could've been killed and it chilled my blood. I called a friend because I needed to calm down and I knew that hearing her voice would do the trick. Since I'm at the end of this little story, I have a request to make of you. I'm simply asking for you to keep an eye out for emergency vehicles on the side of the road and, if you can do so safely, move to a lane further away from the emergency vehicle. If you can't safely change lanes, please slow down. I'd also like you to remind the people you know to move over or slow down. I can't change things on my own, but we can make a difference if we all pitch in. So please, move over or slow down.

Pet peeves

Let's start with a question. What is in the air conditioning system of your car? If you answered "Freon", please leave. Let's get this straightened out right now. Freon is DuPont's brand name for their R-12 refrigerant. Anytime I'm doing air conditioning work on a truck someone will inevitably ask me "How much freon did you put in?" or "Is there any freon in there?" My answer is always "none" and "no." It annoys me to no end when people generically refer to any refrigerant as "freon." When those people are mechanics, I instantly question their abilities. Unless you have a vehicle from 1993 or older which has been pampered it's whole life, your vehicle does not, and will not, have "freon" in it. Starting with the 1994 model year vehicles, R-134a has been the standard refrigerant for vehicle air conditioning. In fact, R-12 is not produced anymore. If a 1993 or older vehicle needs air conditioning work, it will probably have been converted to an R-134a system. Don't hold your breath though. R-134a won't be around much longer. Recently, an old classmate of mine from the tech school days showed up at the shop. He's a truck driver now and brought his truck (a very nice Freightliner Classic BTW) to our shop to have the air conditioner serviced. He called later in the evening to find out how his truck was doing and asked to talk to me, since I was the one who worked on it. Long story short, he used the word "freon" and I was a little disappointed. He and I went through the same classes on mobile air conditioning and he had been working at a Ford dealership until he started trucking. Hearing him say "freon" caused me to lose faith in his abilities. If he refers to the engine in his truck as a "motor", all hope is lost.

What's with the poor spelling these days? I'm not wondering about rarely used words, but the more common words. I'm a product of the public school system and never did well in grammar, punctuation and sentence structure, but I can spell common words correctly. Don't think I'm standing on the soap box preaching about the poor state of the English language. I'm guilty as well. I ask people to correct me whenever I fuck up so I can become a better writer. I actually wish I'd paid more attention in school. Maybe it's time to go back to school.