Far From Home

Having grown up in an owner operator trucking family, and also ventured out a bit on my own, working for a trucking outfit, I’ve travelled a bit. I have been from Seattle to Miami, and from Maine to L.A. Seen a great deal in between. Few states I haven’t been in.

I was driving a 13 speed truck when I was 12. An early start.

I learned how to work on our truck. My stepdad was an old school trucker, who had been around the block a time or two. I learned a great deal from him about driving big trucks, as well as how to work on diesel engines, and the things that make them go. We didn’t pay to have things done we could do ourselves. I still carry that attitude with me. We didn’t do transmissions or rear ends, but everything else, we had the tools, and the know how, to handle.

I’ve been working on a motorcycle that was acquired lately, because I can. Replaced the coils in it, because after a time running @ 60-65 mph, it would spit-n-sputter, and sometimes die. 20 minutes later it would fire up and run again. Bad coils have a habit of misbehaving in such a manner. Took it for a ride yesterday, and the issue persists. So I’m looking around for hint or a clue, and I spotted a wet fuel filter, way down deep under the bike.

I pulled the filter, and you should have seen the brown crud that dumped out of it. New filter, fuel line, and a new fuel pump on the way. I think this might be the culprit. (It’s a 2004 bike, that only had 7064 miles on it, so it sat a lot. Which is not good for vehicles in general.) Being mechanically inclined, and having the experience of working on that truck, prepared me for most of my adult life. I’m still reparing most things that need fixing, which is darn near everything sooner or later. Though, I still have a car that myself, a good mechanic in town, and the Ford dealership have, to date, been unable to fix. I haven’t given up yet, but have been to busy and/or too tired to mess with it. It’s on my list.

Among other things, I also worked as a deckhand for a towboat company for a couple of years, I rode the Illinois, the Ohio, the Missouri, and the upper and lower Mississippi rivers. I learned how to handle rigging, ropes, capstans, and how to use a fid to splice rope, both poly and steel. Also, learned how how to make bumpers out of rope, for getting into and out of locks/dams. To this day, my rope experience pays me back in dividends. Knowing what knot to use for what situation is very helpful. Knowing how to splice an eye into a rope, or splice two rope ends together, is damn handy. Knowing how to properly use a cleat (Kevel, pronounced Cav’el, on towboats/barges,) is something I still do often in my boating/diving adventures. I also got to see much of our country from another perspective, from the rivers that run through them. I’ve seen big river towns lit up at night, and enjoyed the serenity of sitting on the front of a tow (a group of barges tied together with steel wire rigging,) far from the noise of the towboat, and only hearing the water lapping up under the barges as the town slips by. Pretty cool. You had to be there…

Of the many things I’ve learned in life, two would be: You can never have too much rope, and there’s no such thing as extra tarp! πŸ˜‰

So, the things we learn in our travels, as young men and women, can be quite helpful in life later on. Though I gave up driving trucks, and riding towboats a long time ago, the experiences gained are invaluable to me still today.

Still shifting gears after all these years πŸ˜‰

…and there’s no such thing as “far from home,” when you know how to find your way back, and can meet, and beat, the problems that pop up along the way.

Daily writing prompt
Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.

What I Listen To At Work

The music in my head.

All I can hear on the bottom of Ky. Lake is the noise my regulator makes, the bubbles, and motor boats within 1/3 a mile or so.

You are alone. No TV, no people, no distractions but for the boat tugging on you whichever way the wind is blowing.

The job, harvesting freshwater mussels, I’ve done so long it’s damn near auto pilot. Don’t have to think about it much. So, you are very much alone with yourself. Having troubles? You have plenty of time to think. There’s a lot of thinking going on. But usually I’ll settle in, and sooner than later, a song pops into my head.

Which is fine. Except once one does, it sticks with you a while. It’s hard to change the channel. You will think of another song, and get it going, but the other song inevitably jumps back.

My song yesterday was “I Need You” by one of my old time faves Lynyrd Skynyrd. I warn you, it’s an ear worm, but a great song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kD1ruD7-2-I

Side note, I came up from my first dive yesterday, had lost one of my shell sacks, and it had my 4″ Washboard and Heel Splitter ring on it! Shit! Damn! Hell! Then it gets even better, I hadn’t been in the boat 10 seconds, and I see a boat near me with a man and a woman in it. The guy was waving, his boat motor was up, and he was moving under trolling motor power. “Well shit!” I knew what this was the second I saw it.

He needed a tow. His outboard failed.

I’ve been out here on this lake/river a long time. 40 years in fact. So, these things happen, and the river code is simple. You help people when they need it. I didn’t want to, I had a shell sack to hunt for. I was on a decent spot too. So my income for the day is going to take a drastic hit. All I could do though, was ask, “where do you need to get to?”

I’ll spare you the details, but I used Google Earth this morning, it was a 7.5 mile tow! Thank Njord, one of the Nordic gods, there was a marina close by, so I could get enough $5.25 a gallon gas to get me back to my spot to hunt for my sack. It took 2.5 hours to get back where I was diving. The trip back might have taken 20 minutes. Lots of boat traffic on a Saturday, heavy wakes and a N wind slowed me a bit.

Thing is, it was that guy yesterday, it could be me tomorrow. These are the kind of things you pay forward, whether you have something you’d rather do, or not.

Oh yeah, I found the sack πŸ˜‰

Daily writing prompt
What do you listen to while you work?

Can’t Do It

The minute I decide who my favorite historical figure is, something will come to light about that individual that will make me shake my head and have to look for another.

Maybe, if I go far enough back in time, how about Galileo? He took astronomy mainstream, and stood up to the church, with facts. Even in the face of the churches persecution.

Yeah, I’ll take that guy. For now.

Daily writing prompt
Who is your favorite historical figure?

Nope

I’d rather do something useful, like practice guitar. Or practice vocals, which I really, really, need to practice. Or practice anything in the here and now, and not waste precious time on something that exists only between the ears of believers.

If you want to know how I feel about religion, watch a few George Carlin routines.

I’ll make it easy for you:

If I had to proclaim faith in anything, it would be in the scientific method. Where things are verifiable, observable, repeatable, and not based solely on a belief, rattling around in someones head, which is none of those things.

I also have faith that most people who are believers, are unmitigated assholes. They manage to prove it almost every time I run into one. Well, where are all of these assholes you ask? Try the church down the road, or a Trump rally, the internet, Congress, or even SCOTUS. I’m sure you will have really good luck looking in any of those places.

You’ll bag a shitload of assholes. If there’s anything I’m sure of in this world, it is that. No faith required.

Daily writing prompt
Do you practice religion?

What Am I Good At?

I’m a goddamn sexual Tyrannosaurus of course!

Well, maybe not quite, but close πŸ˜‰

Seriously, I am a jack of all trades kind of guy. I weld/ fabricate. I fix stuff, from cars, to outboards, to diving gear, to home appliances. There’s not much I can’t manage in those departments. When I do run across something over my head, I’ll break down and pay someone who can do it. (Or in some cases if the numbers simply add up to it, I might as well pay to get it done, considering parts, time, and special tools for the job.) But I really, really, hate to pay someone to do it for me. I’ll scour the net for info, videos, for whatever I find myself in the middle of, and when all else fails, I call the professionals.

Long story short, I’m a hard headed, cheap bastard, who would rather do it myself than pay through the nose to have it done for me.

I’m a good enough guitar player that I understand how much I still need to learn, after playing one for ~45 years.

I’m a good enough amateur astronomer I can point out the planets, the constellations, and navigate by the stars if I had to.

Even at my age, I’m still a pretty good shelldigger too. But I can tell I’m slowing down. When you can talk about what hurts for 20 minutes, you probably need to slow down anyway πŸ˜‰

Guys like me are a dime a dozen. We’re nothing special. We get by on the edge of existence, hoping things will finally allow us to retire to the rocking chair sometime soon. But know full well, it ain’t happening yet.

But it’s right around the corner, I just know it.

Daily writing prompt
What are you good at?

Love Me Some Music

Due to my bass player, who is a local, and knows just about everyone around who dabbles in music, I’ve met and shared a stage, or a jam, with a lot of local talent that I had no idea existed. I am blown away by the talent right here in my neck of the woods. Amazing.

Some people I’ve met, and shared a stage with, up in Murray Ky. are tapped in to the local scene there. They are a man and wife duo, who are incredibly talented. They even tour, in fact they are heading out on tour soon. These folks have been all over the country playing, sharing their art, and consequently have met other talent like themselves, who are out there grinding away in the music biz.

So, since they know people, and know when they are coming through town on a tour, they started hosting small, invite only, in home shows. They put the starving, touring artists up for a day or two, and have a small concert in their living room. (The music scene is nothing like it used to be, there’s not much $$$ involved, unless you are backed by the biz.) From what I understand, the people who come through, reciprocate, that is, they will do the same for those who help them, when they come through their town on tour. Awesome. Life is tough on the road. Nobody gives a shit about a starving musician… Except other musicians who understand their situation.

Our wonderful hosts have a tip jar at the door. They also allow the artists to sell merch in the dining room. They give the artists a bed and a shower, and an opportunity to make a few bucks between booked shows. They even guarantee a minimum $150 take. That is, if the tips don’t get to the minimum, they chip in the rest to make the minimum guarantee.

The last concert I attended was one of these. A small, initimate show, hosted in the home of some friends. I had a great time. There were two solo acts, who tour together, and share a few songs together, and a local I’ve met before, who were there. Musically, it was all original, mostly folkish stuff, with some Americana. Not full blown rock bands in the living room, though I’d be alright with that πŸ˜‰

Can’t wait for another opportunity. Are we there yet?

I’d bet a shiny new quarter, there is some local talent in your town. You should get out and see! Music is meant to be experienced. Experience it. I don’t mean the cover bands at the local tavern. No, there’s original acts out there trying to share their art. Quite likely right in your town.

Get some culture in your life, it can make you, a better you πŸ˜‰

Oh, here is a FB page with the tour dates, I’m sure they won’t mind me posting this, it’s already public. She can sing like a bird, and has a unique guitar style. I highly recommend going to check them out. Down to earth people too. Did I mention highly talented? Tell them SD sent ya.

https://www.facebook.com/melanieadavismusic

Daily writing prompt
What was the last live performance you saw?

Direction?

That’s easy, a compass.

Now, I’m pretty good at knowing my directions, I’m one of those with a good sense of direction. I know enough about the night sky, I know my direction in the dark.

But, when you come up from a dive, and you are fogged in so bad you can’t see the front of the boat, I don’t care who you are, or how well your innate sense of direction is, you’re lost. There had been current throughout the day, I thought, “I’ll toss out my anchor, when the boat pulls tight, I’ll know which way is S.”* Well they shut the current down, the same current that had been running all day, was now nill. No wind, which would have helped, but nope.

So, the next thing you do is try crank up the outboard, and head in the direction you think an island near you is. No matter how straight you hold the helm, all you do is make a wide circle, quite soon you will be hitting your own wake.

Now I take stock of my supplies, one granola bar and a bottle of water. Slim pickings for supper. Lost and hungry, great.

The sun, if I could have seen it, would have helped. In the fall afternoon, around these parts, the sun will be in a westerly direction. But the fog was so thick the location of the sun was impossible. Every avenue of any way to find a direction was just not there.

I got lucky though, I heard a slow moving towboat. I cranked the outboard, headed in the direction of the towboat. Shut off the motor, listen, get a new tack on the direction of the towboat diesels, and make another short run. I did this several times, and I finally closed in on the tow. I suppose the captain saw me coming with his radar, there was a guy standing on the deck, I yelled, which way you headed? He replied S. Excellent, that’s the way I need to go, so I followed along.

We soon hit a bend where the river channel cuts close to the bank, and I could see land. I knew exactly where I was at! All I had to do was follow the shoreline and it would take me to the boat ramp where my truck was parked.

So I had supper at home after all. And I never, no matter if it’s a beautiful sunny day, ever, go out in a boat again without a compass.

Sorry, this is a rehash of an Old Divers Tale, you may have heard it.

Now, just in case the meaning of this WP prompt was meant to be a deeper diven (haha) into the word “direction.” all I can say there is, direction found me, not the other way around.

*The Tn. river runs S into Alabama, then turns and runs in a northerly direction till it hits the Ohio river. Bet ya didn’t know that. I don’t know of any other river that runs N.

Side note, made my first diving trip of the year yesterday, everything I have hurts right now. Very demanding on the body. But at the same time, I’m sitting here thinking of heading back out regardless. That’s the power that diving, and just being out there living, has on me.

Daily writing prompt
What gives you direction in life?

Damn Russkies

I grew up in an owner operator trucking family. I spent a lot of time on the road in my later teens. If I’m remembering this right, we were at a port, in or near Houston, waiting to pick up or unload. Too much eating and sleeping between now and then to get all the details straight.

I remember having to wait for what seemed an eternity, so I started walking around killing time. I walked past a guy standing close by, he was having a smoke. He acknowledged me with a hello. So I stopped and talked to him for a few minutes. He spoke broken English, yet very understandable, with a very thick Russian accent. He was a Russkie!

He seemed a few years older than me. At the time, I’m guessing I was maybe 17.

So, we’re talking, and as we, do I’m struck by the fact that this commie was as human as I was. He felt so fortunate to be standing on American soil. He was profoundly amazed to be here. He explained to me his captain allowed him to come ashore for a bit, and soak up some American air. He was damn near ecstatic about merely standing in America.

After a few minutes of conversation, he said he had to go. He could not be seen talking to me for any length of time. And we soon parted ways.

I was somewhat intrigued by that encounter. Much of my time growing up was spent dissing the damn commies, by pretty much our entire society, and here I had just met one. There was nothing unusual about him. He was very polite, and eager to speak to an American. Even me. That was a moment for me, where I slowly realized, no matter who we are, no matter what country we hail from, no matter our color or creed, we are all equally human.

That brief moment with a Russian stranger was one of those life changing paradigms, in my ways of thinking about people, even the world. I can point back to that moment in time and say, “that changed me.”

Daily writing prompt
Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.