Don't Tread On Me - It Makes Me Tired

Hello all you guys and gals on the road –
Sorry it’s been a mite since you heard from me last. We just didn’t have time to pull over for any chit-chat, and I didn’t get the laptop out ‘til Miles had a delivery this mornin’. So anyway, here I am with my usual truckload of Tropical Sailboat Fuel (aw, c’mon, use your head – hot air, get it?).
Let’s see, I’ll bring you kinda up to date. I saw something that almost brought a tear to my eye. It was something you’d only see in America. We were in Lancaster, PA, and noticed a small bank on the corner had three drive-through lanes open, with people waiting to be helped. That wasn’t the unusual part. The first two lanes had a couple of four-wheelers in line. The last lane had a horse-drawn Amish buggy pulled up to the teller’s window. Now isn’t that the USA for you?
Seems we been runnin’ hard lately. The price of diesel fuel is enough to choke that same horse I was just talkin’ about. I heard on the news that some of the big international oil dealers were getting ready to step in, so let’s hope they do. In the meantime, my wish for all of us truckers out here is for very few idle moments, that’s for sure.
While we’ve been on the road, I heard Trucker Joe, The CB Entertainer and he got me to thinkin’, he sure deserves his handle. Some of his poems are funny, an’ others make my eyes well up like I’d been slicin’ onions. I told him, at my age, I can’t afford to cry – I’ll get rust spots. He just laughed.
Seems Mr. Shine was still out on the West hill in Albuquerque the last we heard from him. He does a great job polishing wheels and such. He can make any ol’ truck look like a show truck.
I heard something funny from my sister-in-law the other day, Florafora Wheeler. (Yeah, I know it’s a peculiar name, an’ she’s real sensitive about it. Seems when she was born, Miles’ mom called her Pa to tell him he now had a granddaughter. Well, her Pa got so excited over the news, he was yellin’ into the phone, tryin’ to tell her to name the baby after Miles’ grandma, Flora. But he lost his teeth out in the middle of all the hollerin’, and Miles’ mother, bless her heart, thought he’d said, “Name the baby Florafora! Florafora!” So she did.) Anyways, Florafora travels the country in her little RV, her an’ her five cats, an’ she went into a truck stop the other day and in the ladies’ room saw “Hoods rule – Cab-overs drool!” written on the wall. Now, that’s funny.
Reminds me, we had several cab-overs during this here long career. Our first one was back in 1937. You’ve heard all the flap lately about the Fair Labor Act. Well, I was there, ladies and gentlemen, when they passed that durn bill, an’ dadgum if it didn’t exempt farm workers and truck drivers right off the bat. I was hoppin’ mad! Miles an’ me were up in the Visitors’ Gallery there at Congress, an’ first I took off my shirt, an’ then I took off my bra an’ waved it an’ my shirt up an’ down, hollerin’ “They’re takin’ the shirts right off our backs!” in protest.
Well, nobody noticed. Except for one nasty little whippersnapper – somebody said he was a page (huh – he shouldn’t have been more than a sentence) who rudely said, “Put your shirt back on, boy!”
I was so mad – an’ of course, Miles laughed an’ laughed until he doubled over. He did later that night, too. He slept on the doghouse in our old cab-over, an’ I had the bunk to myself.
Well, guess I’d better wrap this up an’ go make a sandwich or something for Miles. He’s been findin’ all the winding roads again. I told him and told him, ever time he goes around one of them curves, the laptop keyboard goes allll theee waaaayyyyy over to the right, but he won’t believe me. Silly ol’ coot. Oh well, guess he’s still got some truckin’ to do. 110 an’ still at it, can you believe it? He says one of these days, we’ll have enough money to retire. An’ you know what he wants to do? Buy an RV an’ go travelin.’ I ask you.
’Til next time, then, like one of my favorite people on the radio, Tim Brady says, “Keep it in gear and keep it right here.” Remember, Stream 138 is for us Sirius truckers.
Yours most sincerely,
Nadine