Friday, March 31, 2006

Road Palace

  Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Don't let HIM get a word in edgewise...


Wellsir, I remember back in the winter o' '76. It were a cold winter, that it was, so cold that the bears n' painters fought over rabbit skins for to make coats fer themselves. Why, it were so cold the june bugs stayed froze plumb into June!
Wellsir, I were takin' a load over to Murphy, N.C. and I decided to take U.S. 64 west all the way. I did fine till I got past Brevard, N.C., then that road started snakin'. It was curvy, that road was, with some hairpin bends that would leave you wondering if you was really headed west after all. Boy howdy! I went up Chrysler Hill and there were a curve so tight , I could look outer my windows and check my rear turn signals. I met two other truckers comin' down, they was talkin' on their big ol' Citizens' Band radios. Them radios was so souped up, when them drivers would key up their mikes, iffin they was talkin' too loud, it'd set the woods on fire.
Wellsir, I struck up a conversation with 'em and talked with them plumb into Highlands. They told me there was a Smokey Bear hidin' down in Cullasaja Gorge ketchin' truckers what was misbehavin'. That Smokey had been watchin' the stretch o' curves where the cliff drops off 'bout 200 feet or so, straight down. Seems them loggers had been kickin' their trucks out o' gear and rollin' around them curves 'bout 70 mile an' hour. Wellsir, they warn't goin' to ketch me runnin' that fast, no sir. I'm smarter than that. I keep my rig in gear an' go slow. Why, sometimes I go so slow, that it takes me three days to ketch up to ma' trailer. Heh, heh, heh.
Wellsir, I passed by that Smokey bear, an' he waved at me the friendliest wave as ever a Smokey Bear could wave. I keyed up on my mike, an' spoke to 'im right neighborly like, but he didn't have his Citizens' Band on. That's okay, 'cuz I got no time to talk, but plenty o' drivin' to do. I hammered down just past Lickskillet an' made it up to 35 mile an' hour. Boy howdy! I was a-flyin'. Warn't no Smokey Bears goin' to bother me, though, they got bigger fish to fry.
Wellsir, I said my goodbyes to them truckers with the big radios. They was rollin' through Horseshoe, N.C. by now. They said they could hear me loud an' clear. That surprised me 'cuz I got just a little ol' radio. But it pleased me just the same.
Wellsir, I stopped in Franklin an' got me a bean an' a tater. Them hot vittles was good eatin'. Boy howdy! 'Bout 7 pm I got rollin'. Snow was beginnin' to fall. I hoped to get over Winding Stairs before the road got too bad. Goin' down didn't bother me. Why, goin' up is the tricky part; iffin your tires start to spin goin' up...boy howdy! Well sir, the tires spun once goin' up, but I power braked 'er, an' she caught back right smart.
That was the hard part. By now it was pitch black an' the snowflakes was fallin'. They looked like big feathers. I went on a-believin' this, till I caught up with a chicken truck. That was where the feathers was comin' from. I keyed up my mike, an' started talkin'. I talked fer an' hour , then I stopped an' let that driver get a word in edgewise. Boy howdy! He were hot! He said he'd met some rude cowboys in his life, but I took the cake! Heh, heh, heh.
Wellsir, I 'pologised to 'im an' he said it were okay, he were a bit on edge 'cuz of the weather. I told 'im iffin he wanted, I'd get ahead an' be 'is front door the rest of the way down. He said that were fine, so I hammered on past, then geared down so he could follow me. We crawled down on black ice with the snow pilin' up so thick it looked like mashed taters on yer plate at grandma's house. Boy howdy!
That got me thinkin' 'bout the time I hauled a load of taters out of Spokane, WA. Things went fine, 'til a coal bucket pulled out in front of me. I hit the brake, but it were too late. I hit 'im and there was taters an' coal thrown fer 700 yards. Mashed taters, they was by now, but ever' bit of 'em flecked with pieces of coal. None of 'em fit fer eatin'. Boy howdy!
Wellsir, we was goin' past Shooting Creek when that chicken truck come around like I was settin' still. Talk about yer rude cowboys! He said he couldn't make it at that #@#$! pace, he had to be in Chattanooga by Christmas. I said that were fine, it'd been a pleasure talkin' an ' ridin'.
Wellsir, I made good time an' were settin' in Murphy by 12 am. That were just fine, I'd get some sleep an' be ready first thing. When I woke up, I drove around lookin' fer my destination, but to no good. I asked around, an' nobody knew where the place was. I had to call my dispatcher. I told him I were in Murphy tryin' to find my destination. He said I were mighty fast, to be in California already. I didn't know what he were talkin about. He asked exactly where was I? I told 'im, an' he said some things I'd better not repeat here. He really let me have it. Boy howdy! It seems I were s'posed to take that load to Murphy. Murphy, CA. And it were spelt Murphys, with an 's'. Seems I missed that part. The good news was, I were on US 64, pointed west. Leastways I didn't have to backtrack over them sceery curves. But wait, maybe I'd better. I need to check my turn signals again, an' I...

Friday, March 17, 2006

33s? WWs? EEs?...

 Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Horseylogical

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Huh?

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Substitution

I jumped a fence
Thought it was a train
Four days later I was still in the same place
Well a fence
Ain't much substitution
For a train

I crossed a trestle
Thought it was a bridge
Four minutes later, No. 7 came thundering on
Well a trestle
Ain't much substitution
For a bridge

Well you'd better
Employ caution
If you're looking
For substitution
A pulley that isn't turning
Doesn't make a single
Revolution

I found a dog
Thought he was a horse
When I rode him around awhile
He really looked annoyed
Well a dog
Ain't much substitution
For a horse

Driving Fast Thinking Slow

Dooley, Dooley Jones
Stay away from that Jerry Motes
You'll land in trouble, yep, I shouldn't know
He drives too fast, and you think too slow

Jerry Motes bought a Cadillac
He gave 'em a big bill, and he got change back
He fired up that expensive V-8
Spun the tires as they left town late
Headed her up Grapevine Hill
Passed a Lincoln like it was standing still
Hammered down on into a curve
Held her steady when she started to swerve

Dooley, Dooley Jones
Stay away from that Jerry Motes
You'll land in trouble, yep, I shouldn't know
He drives too fast, and you think too slow

They met a truck, around the next bend
Jerry hit the brakes, the car started to spin
Steered around and come out straight
Dooley looked mighty pale in the face
Some headlights a-came up real fast
Jerry was ready to let them pass
A red Lincoln come around in overdrive
The cops nailed that old hot rod

Dooley, Dooley Jones
Stay away from that Jerry Motes
You'll land in trouble, yep, I shouldn't know
He drives too fast, and you think too slow

Jerry turned to go back to town
No spinning tires as they went back down
Took those S-curves with a careful hand
He'd caught a glimpse of another chance
Dooley started to breathe again
Jerry said he was his best friend
You know ol' pal this could have been the end
I'll slow down when I drive again

Dooley, Dooley Jones
Maybe hang around that Jerry Motes
Stay out of trouble and I shouldn't know
He's driving slower, you're still thinking slow

Monday, March 06, 2006

"hello...betcha don't know."
"who, me?"
"betcha don't. catch this."
"NO!!!"
##CRASH!!!!