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Tales from a small town

Short stories about life in a small town. Non-fiction. Great reading.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Southern Cross

That's the song by Crosby Stihls and Nash I think about when hauling something. They've got all their "flags a flyin' " and they're "nicely making way."

First load yesterday. I had to go to the factory I used to work for. Well, not exactly. The company I used to work for has several divisions all over the state where I live, and I had to go to a division where I never worked.

It was weird, because the warehouse there, has the exact same smell as the warehouse at the division I used to work for. It's a combination of cardboard, styrofoam and propane exhaust. The concrete floor has the same shade of gray, same "safety-yellow" painted guard rails and door frames for the rest rooms and offices. Same "safety orange" squares painted on the floor which are supposed to designate where the forklift drivers have to stack the pallets. Same personalities: for the guys, it's usually the younger, weight-lifting, dyed and spikey-haired dude in his late teens, covered in tatoos. For the women, middle-aged, exact same appearance as the guys. If it wasn't for the fact the guys have more developed muscle tone, you'd swear the women could kick the guys' asses!

They're all real nice and laid-back.

It was cool because my run started at 4:30 AM, so I drove to the factory warehouse in complete darkness the whole way there. By the time I got out of the factory warehouse, the sun was just coming up. I was driving east anyway, so I was driving right into the rising sun, which was peeking out of sparsely arranged, orange and pink clouds. The van I was driving is huge. I'm every bit as tall as any semi on the road. That's cool, because when you get behind the wheel, it gives you a sense of power. That sense of power lasted until I was crossing a bridge over a major river. I was in the lane closest to the side, and the van is so far up off the ground, when you look out the passenger window, you can't see the gaurd rail - all you see is the river below you, so it creates an optical illusion that you're going to fall into the river below.

It also creates an illusion that your balls are going to creep up, into your stomach. It was right then and there, I decided I wasn't going to let this bother me, so instead, I focused on the natural beauty of the rising sun, the clouds, and how the sunshine bouced off the leaves of the trees lining the riverbank below. Once I focused on that, I lost the feeling that the truck was going to fall into the river, so my balls could return to their normal resting place.

I think I'll like this job.


  • At 11:58 AM, July 31, 2006, Blogger Chris said…

    My wife about had a tizzy fit when I told her about my dad teaching me to drive when I was four. She really lost it when I told her I used to drive the tractor from Grandad's farm to our farm when I was four or five years old. So I SHOULD know how to drive large machinery, but I don't. I can't back my compact car into a parking spot on the first try. I get nervous driving SUV's - they're simply bigger than I'm used to.

    You'll get used to it, no problem. Enjoy the sun!


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