Friday, November 5, 2010

Trucker's Paradise


The owner of a truck stop named Trucker's Paradise has a good sense of irony -- and there is such a place, rather there are two, the other being in Florida but the one I frequent is in Houston, an independent just off the I-610 at Wallisville Road, about an exit from McCarthy Street/US 90. There's a little cafeteria-style Mexican restaurant there but it's only open during the day and the parking lot is a dumping ground for trash and unwanted pallets and other such dunnage and it's a long and unlit walk from its back reaches to the building itself and it's one of the few places I don't feel safe after dark, but it's not owned by a corporation, the most dangerous, we know, things of all.
But yes, in Houston again or passing through and a night at Trucker's Paradise and then after unloading at the very sweet and musky Port of Houston cruised on out to the Baytown TA and got my truck serviced, i.e. oil change, new filters, lubrication, etc. and thereby avoided another trip to the company garage in Tulsa -- where the company wants me to have all work done. It's been two years since I was last there, an accomplishment of which I am quite proud, because at the company's shop there is always a one-day wait in line just to turn the truck in, then the truck sits for another day waiting its turn to get worked on, and the third day they begin working on it. and all of this time I am not being paid. The company if getting my time and my labor for free. That is the definition of slave labor.


Done with Texas and alas KPFT but I hit Houston yard up twice for two logs each time and now have myself one year’s supply. I was just awhile ago down to three month’s worth which uneases see, it causes a situation where I could be forced to stop at a terminal simply to pick up log books, and it might be Tulsa. Which would slightly seem a sight unseemly.

I was surprised by being sent a load without having to call and put myself on the board...but then who knew what ministrations had been administered, as I have been loafing around for most of the past week now...but the load, to Harvey, IL, loaded at one of those cobwebby old port facilities -- a vast overgrown complex of huge rusting tin warehouses spread across the lowland just across the channel from the just as vast P&O port I unloaded at Friday, which, it occurred to me afterward, is the one that was sold to the United Arab Emirates which had lots of our politicians of the left the insecure security ridden right up in elbows as this UAR has ties, let’s say for brevitation, to Al Quaida terrorists.

Speaking of the American right, right now, the men are being separated from the purely partisan, that is, those who get off only on the vicarious power part of it. These working class acts who identify with the party of big business. The timid tea baggers and imagination gaggers who crawl on their knees from party to party part perfidy part parody.


That guest on a KPFT show last night, a former member of the Reagan administration, summed nicely up the situation with how Bush and etc. are getting away with it -- as for the Republicans’ acquiescence, a lot of them were and still are snookered, along with that is that they let him go on unchecked because they love being in power...and also, they -- we’re talking the neocons now -- control all the branches of government plus the media, he says...through the Wall Street Journal Editorial page, and Fox News and I believe he mentioned one other thing, that they control, are extremely influential in the media...they set the tone, the rest follow, more or less is what he was saying.

But yes, KPFT. Trey are doing it. I just hope enough people happen across them on the dial for something to take effect. Last night it was Black Radicalism...a recorded speech of a Marxist from Trinidad, I think it was, some Caribbean place, a revolutionary who said he was influenced by Malcolm X....any means necessary... with an interesting theory. Africa, the richest continent by far, he says, must be developed and act as the power base for Blacks everywhere - Africans I suppose I should be saying. A black man is not afraid of a white man individually, he said, he’s afraid of the power that that white man can bring to bear on him. Economic power. So if Africa was developed to its potential Africans would have the same...actually more...of that kind of power. No one would mess with you, you the individual, in other words.

Anyway, I woke about 9 ish, did a little yoga, drank up my last late night tea. i don't have to go looking for coffee since I got my coffee maker, which runs off a 1000 watt dc 12v to 112 ac inverter. Then I have my little 400 watt inverter to power my freeze dried greens cooler -- as I am not a widespread lover of veggies, especially the good ones, many of the green leafy things I don't care for and am now enjoying KFPT and a can of organic rice and beans as during one of my off afternoons I had found a Whole Foods Market on Bellaire Blvd, in a schmancy zitzy ogdoid part of Houston, and garnered about $115 worth of good eats, and it was a good haul because I was a little more sensible in my shopping, not merely grabbing everything that delighted my eye as usually I do when i find a place like that where I can park the truck, and of course KPFT in the morning.

I was unable to save a long section and lost it -- still not used to this computer yet -- but was talking about the fact that I generally recall bad memories, and whether recalling good memories is a sign of healing and whether that would be diet, other things like yoga and etc., Jesus...Where have you been anyway? Why haven't you cleared up my long term clinical depression....Anyway

Was also commenting on my theory that joy is for the rationalizing type, the type without a conscience or the resulting anger.

The black guy on the radio last night also quoted Confucius as saying that when you make a mistake and realize it and don't correct it you have now made two mistakes, to that effect.....hmmmmm. Mom and the family?

LA-TX (LA side) state line 8:21 p.m.

The Pelican truck stop, where I usually stop to get cigarettes and once often a cigar...there are a few little truck stops here at first LA exit leaving Tejas, exit 4, I-10. Across the interstate is a nice old independent also with restaurante.

At the Pelican I’ve even done laundry in a strange A-frame building where an older (than me) babe type lives upstairs and runs an RV park. Below her is the laundromat and “trucker’s lounge.” Once a semi was parked in her circle drive for a few hours, a no-parking turnaround...her son perchance or if I suspect correctly perhaps her lover. I mean, it’s the only old lady I know of who maintains a “trucker’s lounge” downstairs from her apartment.

BTW. Exit 877 in Texas, for Texas for Orange Newton...wonder if Juice Newton saw that....

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