Swim Lessons

I remember as a small child of 7 or 8 years old taking swimming lessons at the municipal pool. There were certain steps or skills that had to be learned before being allowed to pass through to the rank of those being allowed to swim in the deep end of the pool. First step, I remember, was holding your breath under water for 10 seconds. Piece of cake. The instructor directed me to go to the next group. So I moved to the group right next to us for the second step which was face floating for 10 seconds. Again, easy peasey. Again, the instructor told me to move on to the next group for back floats. My heart sank. Tried and try as I did, I couldn't master the back float. After several attempts, the instructor told me to go to the end of the line and keep practicing. Time was running out and swim lessons would be ending soon. When the instructor was busy with a different student, I slipped over to the next group, which was dog-paddling. Since nobody was keeping track of who was passing the various skills and who belong to which group, it was naturally assumed by the next instructor that I had passed the back float and was ready for dog-paddle, which I already knew and easily passed on to the next group before swim lessons ended for the day.

I'm a fairly competent swimmer nowadays and feel very comfortable and able to swim a great distant. I was even on the diving team in high school - though not very good at that. But, I still cannot back float.

School Bus Hotel

 

I remember I was about 18 years old, hitchhiking, and found myself in this tiny little town in northern Missouri, where it was the home base for a traveling county fair/carnival that I came to know of the summer before, but that's another story. So, I came to this town looking to get hired by the carnival and travel with them for the summer. I needed a place to sleep for the night and I'm walking down this street downtown. There's a line of little kids waiting to get into the movie theater. I asked one of the kids if there is a motel in town or someplace I can sleep. He said no but I could sleep in their clubhouse which was an old, converted school bus. One of them broke away from the line and led me to old, converted he showed me this his old school bus in the back yard. He assured me his parents wouldn't mind me sleeping there. A couple hours later the kid and several of his friends came back from the movie and thought I might be hungry for something to eat. They all chipped in and got me popcorn, a candy bar, and a cup of soda pop. I'm thinking that's pretty cool of these kids to do this. And their dad comes out a little bit later and kind of checks with me and says his kids told him some guy is sleeping out here and just wanted to see what's going on. I explained to him that I hitchhiked here, and I was going to go to work for the carnival the next day and there's no other place to sleep. He said it's cool. So, I slept there and got up the next morning and changed my mind. Turned around and hitchhiked home again.

Baking by Phone

 I remember several years ago when I lived in Fargo. Computers were new-not everyone had one. Cell phones were dreams only developers had. It was one of those dreary Saturday or Sunday afternoons I was hangin out in my apartment cleaning, watching movies and on this particular day, baking fudge brownies. Now I'm not an experienced cook by any means but these brownies were going to be the cure for my munchies. Peering through the tarnished oven door wondering if they were done, the phone rings. I could tell it was a much older lady as she asked for so-and-so. I politely told her she had the wrong number but, "I am baking brownies. Can you tell me how to tell if they're done or not?" "Why yes", was her reply. "Stick a fork or toothpick in the center and if it comes out clean, the brownies are done."
No names were exchanged. Nothing else was said. We hung up, both feeling a little better than moments before. Sometimes it really is the small things that make a difference.

My First Thanksgiving Away From Home

 I just finished Thanksgiving 2024. Memories of my first Thanksgiving alone passed through my mind most the day so tonight, I remember exactly what I was doing the day of Thursday November 23, 1978. I was on my way to Philadelphia. It was late afternoon when I got underway. I was driving a 1976 cabover Kenworth, faded green and white, with only the bare basic interior and pulling a 40 foot refrigerated semi trailer loaded with 40,000 of Spam. The name "Ellsworth" was on the side. Ellsworth was 1 of a couple trucking companies willing to hire new inexperienced drivers. I had just turned 22 years old, fresh out of trucking school where I graduated with a 98% grade; best ever in that class of anyone. I was long-haired, bearded, cowboy boots and cowboy hat, country boy kind of kid because that is the image I saw truck drivers as being. I soon learned it wasn't so common as TV made it out to be. Definitely not Smokey and the Bandit. I don't remember having a CB radio but I do remember the am\fm radio barely worked. The engine was cut back to 55mph, and that was downhill with the wind behind me and rode rough as a buckboard from the 1880's. 

I clearly remember the bumpy, hilly, drive across Wisconsin in the nighttime rain. I don't remember much more after that until my delivery. After unloaded, my next load was to be M&M's from Hershey. PA to East St. Louis. I got lucky finding the Hershey plant, loaded up with 40,000 pounds of M&M's and the gave me 2 giant bags of M&M chocolates and M&M Peanuts to snack on during the drive. I next remember having difficulty finding the warehouse in East St. Louis and driving in circles until I stumbled upon it.

I remember my next load was some kind of oil in drums from East St. Louis to Minnesota. When I got to the place to load, it was a blind back into the narrow dock off a small busy street. Being new, I can see I would spend forever trying to get backed in, IF I could at all. Fortunately for me there was a seasoned driver already there waiting to get loaded. We talked for a bit and he listened as I told of my fears and doubts of trying to get it backed up to the dock and asked him to hold up traffic while I tried. Nice guy took the sob story and offered to back it in for me. OK, that's not how it went. I gave him this sob story of being new and not good at backing at all and offered him $20 if he would back it in for me. He expertly backed it in to the dock like he had done it a hundred times before. Wow.. My jaw dropped and my eyes bulged out a little. This man was my hero and he refused to take my $20 too. Back north to the truck terminal in Eagle Grove, Iowa. Round trip; Minnesota to 2 stops in PA , then to St. Louis for 2 stops, then back to Iowa where I fought a snow storm and was probably one of the last trucks that would fit in the truck stop the night before I was to make it back to the terminal; 3 weeks, about 2,600 miles. I was beat and tired. and Broke. I went home and stalled for time until my paycheck came. $300 plus the $150 I drew for expenses on the road. I was hurt and disillusioned. Think about it. $450 for 3 weeks pay in a truck that pounds and bounces the common sense right out of you and only 2600 miles. I should be doing that in 1 week. I called and quit on the spot. It was less than a week later I met up with one of the instructors from the truck program who told me of a company called Elliott Brothers that needed a driver and he knows them and would put in a good word for me. I started work for Elliott Bros. Truck Lines the first week after Christmas 1978 in a shiny cab-over Kenworth with premium interior and painted green and yellow, like a Crayola box, and tops out at 72 mph. I like it there. They gave me a chance and I learned a lot and became good at my job. I was there for about 5 years pulling a flatbed with 4 foot grain sides and a tarp - commonly called "Covered Wagons" hauling bulk grain from Iowa to grain barges in Hennepin, IL and international ships in Chicago, then load steel back to the likes of John Deeres, Maytag, Lennox, and Waterloo Industries to name a few,

Ill probably elaborate on other memories with Elliott as they come up. It was there my love for truck driving intensely developed and I was recognized at being good at my job.

More later

Paradox

 First, let me say this is not my works. I remember many, many years ago I had this memorized and often recited it amongst friends. So how many years is many many? I honestly don't remember what time frame it was. My best guess would be my late teens to early 20's.

                -------------------------------------------------------

    Ladies and gentlemen, hobos and tramps, cross-eyed mosquitoes, and bow-legged ants, I come before you to sit behind you and tell you a story I know nothing about. Admission is free, so pay at the door, pull out a chair, and sit on the floor

One sunny day in the middle of the night, two dead boys arose to fight. Back-to-back, they faced each other, drew their swords and shot each other. A mute man shrieked at the fright, and a lame man danced at the ghastly sight. A deaf policeman heard the noise and came to kill the two dead boys. If you don't believe this lie is true, ask the blind man, for he saw it too.