Another ‘go back in time’ moment
Well, I did again folks. I had another one of those ‘what was I thinking’ events that caused me to want to go back in time and ‘do it over’. I had picked up another backhaul of empty bottles going to a company in Allentown, PA. This time it would be a live unload, meaning I’d wait while they unloaded the product. Before I left Elmira, NY, I sealed the trailer with a metal seal. I remember thinking as I did that, I would need to use my hammer to break it when I needed to open the doors.
I arrived at the customer and was quickly given a door assignment, and proceeded to set myself up to back in. I got out and went to open the doors and noticed there was already some dude on a forklift anxiously awaiting my arrival and ready to get to work, which is a good thing. As I stood at the trailer doors I realized I had forgotten my hammer to break the seal. I thought about it for a second or two, and for some reason I was too lazy to walk back to the truck for my hammer, besides, this guy was waiting on me now. I did think of the consequences of what may happen shall I decide to use my bare hands, but hey, I’m a tough guy right? So I took my right hand and ripped away........
OOOUUUUWWWAAHHHH! (Sung to the tune the way my kids say no - Noaah)
Instant pain. I looked at my right hand, I now possessed two very deep cuts on my index finger, and another deep one on my ‘salute’ finger! There was no blood yet, but I knew I’d have only enough time to finish opening the doors and get back to the truck before the river began. That’s pretty much what happened. I knew the guy watching me saw what happened, and I didn’t even care. So much for getting this trailer in for him quickly; I now needed to give myself emergency medical treatment. I disappeared into the back of the truck for at least a few minutes while I attended to my little mistake. A painful one at that.
What was I thinking? Apparently I wasn’t thinking at all. As brilliant as I am (or think I am), certainly somewhere deep in my genetic code, there must be some Blonde. I almost hurt myself enough to where I wouldn’t be able to do my job. Obviously I need stuff like arms, legs and fingers to keep the millions coming in, that’s why I stay away from circular saws and high wire circus acts. On the upside, I may even have a scar on my hands to remind me of such stupid maneuvers. In the future, if I have an internal dilemma of what to do, I can look at my right hand and think to myself: "maybe you should turn off the mower before attempting to remove the blade!"
Week of the Birds!
Wednesday morning, I was traveling South on 83 when all of the sudden, WHACK. A bird had flown directly into my path, just above the hood and right into the windshield. I had the displeasure of watching the poor fellow in my drivers side mirror as he stumbled thru the air for the final time. I’m really a fan of the birds, in fact, when the time comes I plan to put in a request to come back for my next adventure as a bird! I’m hoping the ability to spread my wings and fly anytime I want will offset the terrible things that will be on the menu. Perhaps I’ll be a hawk and soar around all day or even better, a Bald Eagle- that way I’ll be protected and already familiar with the bald part. Anyway, the incident left a stain on the day and it was only early. Even worse, right after the impact and I was feeling bad enough, his buddies were circling above and probably had less then kind words for me, or my truck, or both. I just kind of watched them watching me and I felt like telling them it wasn’t my fault, he simply wasn’t paying any attention at all which is kind of dumb if your flying and all.
On my way home Wednesday evening, I received a dispatch for a two day, twelve stop load up in New York, went back to Leesport, got the trailer and made my way up. I had about ninety miles left on Thursday morning and it dawned another beautiful day. I had a very good breakfast. I had my coffee. I literally was the only vehicle on the road as I headed out 86 West. It truly was one of those perfect little life moments; but that was all about to change.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of those very large birds on the right shoulder. I don’t know what it was, I said I am a fan of birds, not a hardcore bird watcher! It may have been a Turkey, or maybe a Pheasant, either way it was one of those that don’t look like they should be flying (they are not good at it) or are better suited to being all carved up on the dinner table.
I noticed him because of his size, and the fact that he was about three feet in the air and climbing, directly into my path. There was no time to yell out the window and tell him to abort so I did the second best thing and hit the brakes just hard enough that they would not lock up and hoped for the best.
WHAM - O!
This whatever-it-was bird hit almost directly in the center of the windshield. The impact was so severe that my Garmin GPS actually flew off the suction cup mount and hit the floor. One of the small dash access panels where the hands free phone speaker sits popped open. How the windshield did not shatter, or at least crack is beyond me. For the second day in a row, I am watching in my mirror as another bird takes the terrible plunge of death.
"What is going on?" I think to myself. I just can’t keep killing off wildlife on a daily basis and feel good about myself! I also might have been a wee bit paranoid before when I spoke about the birds circling above thinking I’m the bad guy, but this time I was convinced it really was happening. I passed a couple of Canadian Geese in a little gulley shortly after this incident, and I swear to you, one of them stuck up his long goose neck and gave me the hairy eyeball!
I spoke to my better half about these traumatic events and she thought it means something terrible, like bad luck. A superstitious thing. I never heard of that, and would like to hear from anyone who might have. She kept telling me over and over to be extra careful to the point it was almost annoying. She said it again right before we hung up. I seized the opportunity for the classic one liner return:
Her: "Remember, be extra careful, bye."
Me: "I will, but if I’m not, I won’t name it after you! Bye."
Her: "Okay, bye. Wait! I just got that, and I don’t find you funny!"
See that folks? Not only can this Woman make a moose vomit, but she is also a little slow at catching my humor! That right there is another one of life’s great mysteries. Why do I find stuff funny that other people (especially her) do not?
I noticed that my drivers side windshield wiper seemed to be kind of flapping a little bit like it wasn’t quite making complete contact with the windshield anymore. I checked it at my first stop and sure enough, the impact had in fact bent the darn thing. The windshield washer doo-hickey also broke off and was hanging down as you can see from this picture:
I didn’t want to touch anything without gloves since the area was possibly contaminated with bird guts. When I stopped for the night at the Flying J (hey, that’s me!) I was able to bend it back into shape but had to temporarily strap on the washer doo-hickey with a plastic tie.
And Friday rolls around.....
I’m happy to report that all of Friday’s driving adventures were not hazardous to any wildlife whatsoever! As I rolled happily towards home South on 390, I noticed another large bird, just like the one I hit, dead on the side of the road. Ha Ha! It’s not my fault! These things fly into vehicles with reckless abandon! Then I started to think about where I was, which geographically from a birds point of view, wasn’t very far from where I hit mine. What if that dead one I just saw was a friend or even a significant other of my victim, couldn’t stand the pain of losing his or her loved one and decided to jump out and end it all on Purpose??? Could I be responsible for three dead birds that week?
I know one thing for certain: if I ever do become a bird, no matter where I hatch, I’ll be smart enough to stay out in the countryside, far away from interstate traffic. And I sure as heck won’t be using any metal seals to build my nest!
I arrived at the customer and was quickly given a door assignment, and proceeded to set myself up to back in. I got out and went to open the doors and noticed there was already some dude on a forklift anxiously awaiting my arrival and ready to get to work, which is a good thing. As I stood at the trailer doors I realized I had forgotten my hammer to break the seal. I thought about it for a second or two, and for some reason I was too lazy to walk back to the truck for my hammer, besides, this guy was waiting on me now. I did think of the consequences of what may happen shall I decide to use my bare hands, but hey, I’m a tough guy right? So I took my right hand and ripped away........
OOOUUUUWWWAAHHHH! (Sung to the tune the way my kids say no - Noaah)
Instant pain. I looked at my right hand, I now possessed two very deep cuts on my index finger, and another deep one on my ‘salute’ finger! There was no blood yet, but I knew I’d have only enough time to finish opening the doors and get back to the truck before the river began. That’s pretty much what happened. I knew the guy watching me saw what happened, and I didn’t even care. So much for getting this trailer in for him quickly; I now needed to give myself emergency medical treatment. I disappeared into the back of the truck for at least a few minutes while I attended to my little mistake. A painful one at that.
What was I thinking? Apparently I wasn’t thinking at all. As brilliant as I am (or think I am), certainly somewhere deep in my genetic code, there must be some Blonde. I almost hurt myself enough to where I wouldn’t be able to do my job. Obviously I need stuff like arms, legs and fingers to keep the millions coming in, that’s why I stay away from circular saws and high wire circus acts. On the upside, I may even have a scar on my hands to remind me of such stupid maneuvers. In the future, if I have an internal dilemma of what to do, I can look at my right hand and think to myself: "maybe you should turn off the mower before attempting to remove the blade!"
Week of the Birds!
Wednesday morning, I was traveling South on 83 when all of the sudden, WHACK. A bird had flown directly into my path, just above the hood and right into the windshield. I had the displeasure of watching the poor fellow in my drivers side mirror as he stumbled thru the air for the final time. I’m really a fan of the birds, in fact, when the time comes I plan to put in a request to come back for my next adventure as a bird! I’m hoping the ability to spread my wings and fly anytime I want will offset the terrible things that will be on the menu. Perhaps I’ll be a hawk and soar around all day or even better, a Bald Eagle- that way I’ll be protected and already familiar with the bald part. Anyway, the incident left a stain on the day and it was only early. Even worse, right after the impact and I was feeling bad enough, his buddies were circling above and probably had less then kind words for me, or my truck, or both. I just kind of watched them watching me and I felt like telling them it wasn’t my fault, he simply wasn’t paying any attention at all which is kind of dumb if your flying and all.
On my way home Wednesday evening, I received a dispatch for a two day, twelve stop load up in New York, went back to Leesport, got the trailer and made my way up. I had about ninety miles left on Thursday morning and it dawned another beautiful day. I had a very good breakfast. I had my coffee. I literally was the only vehicle on the road as I headed out 86 West. It truly was one of those perfect little life moments; but that was all about to change.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of those very large birds on the right shoulder. I don’t know what it was, I said I am a fan of birds, not a hardcore bird watcher! It may have been a Turkey, or maybe a Pheasant, either way it was one of those that don’t look like they should be flying (they are not good at it) or are better suited to being all carved up on the dinner table.
I noticed him because of his size, and the fact that he was about three feet in the air and climbing, directly into my path. There was no time to yell out the window and tell him to abort so I did the second best thing and hit the brakes just hard enough that they would not lock up and hoped for the best.
WHAM - O!
This whatever-it-was bird hit almost directly in the center of the windshield. The impact was so severe that my Garmin GPS actually flew off the suction cup mount and hit the floor. One of the small dash access panels where the hands free phone speaker sits popped open. How the windshield did not shatter, or at least crack is beyond me. For the second day in a row, I am watching in my mirror as another bird takes the terrible plunge of death.
"What is going on?" I think to myself. I just can’t keep killing off wildlife on a daily basis and feel good about myself! I also might have been a wee bit paranoid before when I spoke about the birds circling above thinking I’m the bad guy, but this time I was convinced it really was happening. I passed a couple of Canadian Geese in a little gulley shortly after this incident, and I swear to you, one of them stuck up his long goose neck and gave me the hairy eyeball!
I spoke to my better half about these traumatic events and she thought it means something terrible, like bad luck. A superstitious thing. I never heard of that, and would like to hear from anyone who might have. She kept telling me over and over to be extra careful to the point it was almost annoying. She said it again right before we hung up. I seized the opportunity for the classic one liner return:
Her: "Remember, be extra careful, bye."
Me: "I will, but if I’m not, I won’t name it after you! Bye."
Her: "Okay, bye. Wait! I just got that, and I don’t find you funny!"
See that folks? Not only can this Woman make a moose vomit, but she is also a little slow at catching my humor! That right there is another one of life’s great mysteries. Why do I find stuff funny that other people (especially her) do not?
I noticed that my drivers side windshield wiper seemed to be kind of flapping a little bit like it wasn’t quite making complete contact with the windshield anymore. I checked it at my first stop and sure enough, the impact had in fact bent the darn thing. The windshield washer doo-hickey also broke off and was hanging down as you can see from this picture:
I didn’t want to touch anything without gloves since the area was possibly contaminated with bird guts. When I stopped for the night at the Flying J (hey, that’s me!) I was able to bend it back into shape but had to temporarily strap on the washer doo-hickey with a plastic tie.
And Friday rolls around.....
I’m happy to report that all of Friday’s driving adventures were not hazardous to any wildlife whatsoever! As I rolled happily towards home South on 390, I noticed another large bird, just like the one I hit, dead on the side of the road. Ha Ha! It’s not my fault! These things fly into vehicles with reckless abandon! Then I started to think about where I was, which geographically from a birds point of view, wasn’t very far from where I hit mine. What if that dead one I just saw was a friend or even a significant other of my victim, couldn’t stand the pain of losing his or her loved one and decided to jump out and end it all on Purpose??? Could I be responsible for three dead birds that week?
I know one thing for certain: if I ever do become a bird, no matter where I hatch, I’ll be smart enough to stay out in the countryside, far away from interstate traffic. And I sure as heck won’t be using any metal seals to build my nest!
Comments
And while I never blogged about it, I also had an "incident" with a metal seal. I have a tendency to carry the seals in my mouth while gloving up to close my trailer doors. No biggie with plastic... but I had a metal one that did a number to my poor lips and corners of my mouth. Go figure.
Another metal seal I repeated cut my own fingers with while playing with it mindlessly whilst talking to another driver.
I'm accident prone. I won't even go into the story of how I nearly cut the tip of my finger off cleaning up a pot roast!