Sympathy for a Luddite

There's a noisy engine to my left. The passenger's-side window is open, in hopes of a breeze. Luckily, there aren't any bugs out tonight.

It's ten o-clock at night. I should be in bed. Instead, I'm in limbo. A cell on speakerphone plays faint Muzak withing arm's reach. On the other end (or so I'm told) someone from Breakdown will someday pick up. We'll see.

After three weeks of funeral arrangements, frantic preparations to move, and trying to adjust to the hole in my life where "home" used to be, I returned to the road today. Or tried to. There wasn't a whole lot of choice--"paid leave" isn't a word in OTR trucking. So I got to a sorta stopping point in my moving prep and went out to the terminal.

They'd assigned me a new truck--to me, anyway. The newest truck I've ever driven, with the fancy new EPA-approved engine and the even fancier electronics. I spent an hour or more wrestling all my stuff into it, and another half-hour figuring out how to set all the dashboard screens to work so I could read them properly.

At that point the dispatcher assigned me a load--that was scheduled for pickup two hours ago. Time travel is not one of the functions they've added to the new trucks yet. Oh, well. But they knew that when they assigned me. So I started the monster up and pulled out of the terminal.

I barely made it past the gate.

One of the features on this marvelous new truck was an automatic transmission. Very nice. But about fifty feet from the terminal, I noticed it wasn't shifting past Fourth. On a ten-speed transmission. And the gearshift indicator was flashing error messages. Most distressing.

Fortunately, I was bobtailing. With no trailer, finding a place to turn around was relatively easy. Getting the fifty feet back to the terminal was merely slow. When I told the mechanics what it was doing, they cussed and told me to park it. Apparently it had already been in the shop for exactly this problem. And the manufacturer had SAID they'd fixed it...

(By the way, don't read this as a tirade against automatics. They seem to be nice enough, and they're REAL handy in heavy traffic. And they seldom screw up, I'm told. But when they do screw up, it's not a quick fix. Or so I'm told.)

I told my dispatcher what happened. He probably muttered a bit, but he assigned me another truck. Feeling a bit paranoid at this point, I did a careful walkaround before moving my stuff. Good thing, too. The bumper was messed up. I spoke to the mechanics again. They cussed some more and sent someone out to look at it. He looked, and then cussed a good bit more. Apparently this was not something they could jerry-rig a quick fix for. And it was actually a safety issue--they couldn't let it out of the yard like this.

So I told my dispatcher what happened. He DID cuss this time. And found me a third truck.

A careful inspection, and then a weary time moving all my stuff into the new truck (at least it was only the second time--let's hear it for paranoia). And off I went, arriving at the customer only six hours late for the pickup.

Fortunately, the trailer was already loaded. I hooked up, connected the air and electric lines, and inspected the trailer.

One of the running lights was missing.

I suppose, strictly speaking, this might not seem to be a big deal. But the various state DOT's don't grade safety equipment on a curve. And this was happening right at the beginning of their annual safety drive--what is sometimes called "DOT rectal exam week."

Some other time of the year, I might get off with a warning. Might. Not this week. Someone with a badge looks at that trailer tonight, I could be in big trouble.

So I call Breakdown. And wait for a reply. The wheels of God, etc. Eventually, they tell me that, since the terminal shop is closed for the night, I'll have to run about twenty miles to a certain truck stop, there to have the light replaced.

So, off I go to the truck stop garage. Fill out the papers. And call breakdown for authorization. Which is where I am now. Waiting to see whether the shop can get the trailer fixed before I run out of hours.

Ah, someone just picked up. I'll be driving all night after all.