Well, sometimes the best-laid plans of mice and women ... guess you-all want to know why I haven't posted another entry in the last few days. Been kinda busy - well, let me just tell you about it.
All you nice folks on the road know that yours truly, that's me, Nadine Wheeler, am the President of the Mark Willis Fan Club. He's on Sirius Road Dog Trucking Radio, an' if you haven't heard him, well, you must be driving in the Gobi Desert or something.
But anyway, Mark's birthday was August 2nd, an' I had a great idea for celebrating it. Miles had actually gotten a pick-up in Dallas - believe it or not - and it wasn't too far from the radio studio where Mark, that silver-tongued chick magnet, works five days a week. So we pulled over last Monday night in Coppell, Texas, at a parking lot beside one of those huge chain stores which lets us truckers park there. (Thanks again to that store's manager - super store! Super manager!) An' after Miles was snorin' away, I went in and out of that store, buying balloons and helium. I stayed up all night and just filled our entire trailer with balloons of all colors for Mark for his birthday the next day.
Tuesday morning, we're up bright an' early and runnin' east on 635, going towards the exit for Miles' load pick-up an' the radio show building- when I look in the truck's mirror on my side an' see two or three balloons pop out and float away behind us.
Oh, my stars. I couldn't let Miles know what was goin' on, him being so jealous an' so on ... and I had to just sit there an' watch as all of Mark's Happy Birthday balloons got away. Guess at 108 years old, I just didn't have the strength to latch that back door on the trailer like I used to. Oh me. Poor Mark. I'm sorrier than a hound dog trapped at a skunk convention.
Happy Deflated Birthday, Markey. I'll try to do better next year.
You guys and gals stay safe on the road now.
Hugs from Nadine.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Hi from the Highway
Hi everybody,
Just wanted to let you know I'm thinkin' about each and every one of you out there on the roads and pulled over in the parking lots and docks of America. Keep on truckin', kids - don't forget, everything that's in the stores, in folks' homes, or in their cars - a truck brought it. An' there aren't any robots able to drive a truck, at least, not yet. So everything someone wears, eats, sits or sleeps on, even the food they feed their cats and dogs and goldfish - was brought by a trucker behind the wheel of his or her rig.
I know how hard a life it is out there; I've lived it, sweetie. An' my hat's off to you! I'd like to buy you all a cup of coffee - or have you set down at my kitchen table, push the cat out of the way, an' have a cup with me.
God bless and keep you safe.
Remember, Nadine cares about you - an' worries about you, too.
Drive safe now.
Just wanted to let you know I'm thinkin' about each and every one of you out there on the roads and pulled over in the parking lots and docks of America. Keep on truckin', kids - don't forget, everything that's in the stores, in folks' homes, or in their cars - a truck brought it. An' there aren't any robots able to drive a truck, at least, not yet. So everything someone wears, eats, sits or sleeps on, even the food they feed their cats and dogs and goldfish - was brought by a trucker behind the wheel of his or her rig.
I know how hard a life it is out there; I've lived it, sweetie. An' my hat's off to you! I'd like to buy you all a cup of coffee - or have you set down at my kitchen table, push the cat out of the way, an' have a cup with me.
God bless and keep you safe.
Remember, Nadine cares about you - an' worries about you, too.
Drive safe now.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Standing in your pj's at the truck stop
Hi there, guys and gals,
Well, listenin' to some four-wheelers at the truck stop cash register the other day got me started thinking. Guess the first time it really hit me that I was livin' in a different world was late one night when Miles had gone an' crawled out of the truck and huffed off to the truck stop cafe' to get some coffee or something. I was gettin' ready for bed an' I realized I was inside the truck, in the middle of a huge parking lot filled with truck drivers an' other trucks, and wearin' only my pajamas. My poor grandmother would've swooned at the thought, even though of course I had the curtains pulled an' the cab doors locked. You just don't realize that the truck really becomes your home until you're on the road so much, you feel funny walking into four walls that don't jiggle around a lot. (Unless of course you live in California.)
With that in mind, I'll remind everyone to finish their log book and turn in for the night. And remember to honk when you see Miles and me on the road. You might even honk if you happen to see Flora Fora. Bless her heart. She's having kind of a rough time of it, her and the five cats. Seems a poor misguided mouse got into her little RV the other day, and the cats just went crazy. The little RV was rocking back and forth and jumping up and down, and leaning first one way and then the other until Flora thought for sure they were all going to be capsized like that pitiful little fishing boat in "A Perfect Storm." The cats was screechin' somethin' awful, an' clawing and scratchin' at each other, all tryin' to get that one mouse, when all of a sudden there's a terrible pounding on the door. (She told me all this on the phone, poor thing, when she could quit shaking hard enough to push them lil' bitty buttons.) Said the pounding nearly scared her to death; she was sure her heart quit beating for a few minutes. Finally she said she got a breath gulped in an' she hollers, "Who's there?" An' this big voice says, "State Police! Open this door!"
So she shakes her way over to the door, dodging scrambling cats all the way, 'cause of course now they're all runnin' to get under the bed because they're scared of whoever that is at the door.
An' she opens the door. A trooper's standin' there, and he glares at poor Flora Fora in her little housecoat an' says, "What's the meanin' of all this ruckus in here?"
Flora nearly fainted, she told me, he looked so mad. "Why, officer," she finally managed to whisper, "I never thought my little Cat House would be such a bother to everyone. I'm really sorry." That's the name of her RV, you see. She's got a little sign with that painted on it, just hangin' by the front door, where the doorbell is.
She did say the trooper was really nice an' even apologized to her after he'd gone under the bed and drug ever' one of them cats out, hissin' and scratchin' and cussin' in cat. I couldn't help thinkin' she was lucky she didn't say something really dumb, like Mrs. Slocum used to say on "Are You Being Served?" Poor Flora. An' the worst yet - when she went to get her breakfast the next morning, that mouse jumped out of the cupboard at her, an' the whole commotion started again.
Well, night-night, everyone. Safe roads and well-payin' loads.
A big good-night kiss from yours truly,
Nadine
Well, listenin' to some four-wheelers at the truck stop cash register the other day got me started thinking. Guess the first time it really hit me that I was livin' in a different world was late one night when Miles had gone an' crawled out of the truck and huffed off to the truck stop cafe' to get some coffee or something. I was gettin' ready for bed an' I realized I was inside the truck, in the middle of a huge parking lot filled with truck drivers an' other trucks, and wearin' only my pajamas. My poor grandmother would've swooned at the thought, even though of course I had the curtains pulled an' the cab doors locked. You just don't realize that the truck really becomes your home until you're on the road so much, you feel funny walking into four walls that don't jiggle around a lot. (Unless of course you live in California.)
With that in mind, I'll remind everyone to finish their log book and turn in for the night. And remember to honk when you see Miles and me on the road. You might even honk if you happen to see Flora Fora. Bless her heart. She's having kind of a rough time of it, her and the five cats. Seems a poor misguided mouse got into her little RV the other day, and the cats just went crazy. The little RV was rocking back and forth and jumping up and down, and leaning first one way and then the other until Flora thought for sure they were all going to be capsized like that pitiful little fishing boat in "A Perfect Storm." The cats was screechin' somethin' awful, an' clawing and scratchin' at each other, all tryin' to get that one mouse, when all of a sudden there's a terrible pounding on the door. (She told me all this on the phone, poor thing, when she could quit shaking hard enough to push them lil' bitty buttons.) Said the pounding nearly scared her to death; she was sure her heart quit beating for a few minutes. Finally she said she got a breath gulped in an' she hollers, "Who's there?" An' this big voice says, "State Police! Open this door!"
So she shakes her way over to the door, dodging scrambling cats all the way, 'cause of course now they're all runnin' to get under the bed because they're scared of whoever that is at the door.
An' she opens the door. A trooper's standin' there, and he glares at poor Flora Fora in her little housecoat an' says, "What's the meanin' of all this ruckus in here?"
Flora nearly fainted, she told me, he looked so mad. "Why, officer," she finally managed to whisper, "I never thought my little Cat House would be such a bother to everyone. I'm really sorry." That's the name of her RV, you see. She's got a little sign with that painted on it, just hangin' by the front door, where the doorbell is.
She did say the trooper was really nice an' even apologized to her after he'd gone under the bed and drug ever' one of them cats out, hissin' and scratchin' and cussin' in cat. I couldn't help thinkin' she was lucky she didn't say something really dumb, like Mrs. Slocum used to say on "Are You Being Served?" Poor Flora. An' the worst yet - when she went to get her breakfast the next morning, that mouse jumped out of the cupboard at her, an' the whole commotion started again.
Well, night-night, everyone. Safe roads and well-payin' loads.
A big good-night kiss from yours truly,
Nadine
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Out of line but back just fine
Howdy, everybody,
My stars and garters, it's been halfway to forever since I wrote all of you. I do truly apologize. Miles and me have been trundlin' around the country like we had lost our senses (don't answer that, truckers) an' just haven't stopped for long. But now we've got kinda breathin' room, an' we're gonna park it for a while, so I'll be postin' regular like.
Hugs and a big kiss to everyone - don't forget, I'm still the president of the Mark Willis Fan Club. I allll-most got to meet him at MATS this year, doggone it. I had a perfect plan worked out. I was going to hide under a table skirting at one of the booths close to the Sirius Radio area at the show. An' then when Mark was on the air, I figured I could just jump out an' run up an' hug him around the neck and give him a big smooch.
So there I was, scrunched up under the table skirt (won't say which booth - I don't want to get them in trouble - but you know who you were, folks - thanks again from Nadine), well hidden from Miles - you know how jealous he is of anyone I happen to get a little crush on - an' ...
wouldn't you know it?!??! The ol' trucker hisself comes and STANDS there by the Sirius table the entire time Mark was on the air. Oh me. I could've cried. To be so close an' not able to actually meet him. Thought my heart was gonna break.
Well, after Miles finally moved on to another spot, I crawled out from under the table an' just went back to the truck, feelin' sadder than a mashed cricket. Maybe the next show.
But enough about me. You guys and gals out there behind the wheel, remember Nadine's always cheerin' for ya! Keep your chin up - this fuel crunch can't last forever. Our farmers will grow enough ethanol and our greasy spoons will provide enough biodiesel that we'll keep this whole country truckin' !
Safe trip now.
Love, Nadine
My stars and garters, it's been halfway to forever since I wrote all of you. I do truly apologize. Miles and me have been trundlin' around the country like we had lost our senses (don't answer that, truckers) an' just haven't stopped for long. But now we've got kinda breathin' room, an' we're gonna park it for a while, so I'll be postin' regular like.
Hugs and a big kiss to everyone - don't forget, I'm still the president of the Mark Willis Fan Club. I allll-most got to meet him at MATS this year, doggone it. I had a perfect plan worked out. I was going to hide under a table skirting at one of the booths close to the Sirius Radio area at the show. An' then when Mark was on the air, I figured I could just jump out an' run up an' hug him around the neck and give him a big smooch.
So there I was, scrunched up under the table skirt (won't say which booth - I don't want to get them in trouble - but you know who you were, folks - thanks again from Nadine), well hidden from Miles - you know how jealous he is of anyone I happen to get a little crush on - an' ...
wouldn't you know it?!??! The ol' trucker hisself comes and STANDS there by the Sirius table the entire time Mark was on the air. Oh me. I could've cried. To be so close an' not able to actually meet him. Thought my heart was gonna break.
Well, after Miles finally moved on to another spot, I crawled out from under the table an' just went back to the truck, feelin' sadder than a mashed cricket. Maybe the next show.
But enough about me. You guys and gals out there behind the wheel, remember Nadine's always cheerin' for ya! Keep your chin up - this fuel crunch can't last forever. Our farmers will grow enough ethanol and our greasy spoons will provide enough biodiesel that we'll keep this whole country truckin' !
Safe trip now.
Love, Nadine
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)