There were 192 cars on the train – plus four engines. I know because I had a front row seat at the crossing and I counted them as they slowly rolled by. Then, just before the last car had cleared, the powers that be at the railroad stopped the train to send it back the other way – to give me a chance to double check my numbers. Yep, 192.

This had taken the better part of an hour and I was becoming impatient. I had places to be, namely, on the other side of the tracks! I could see the warehouse where I was supposed to deliver the load of freight. And, I could see the lumpers (the guys who unload trucks when truck drivers like me are too lazy) standing idly by on the dock – waiting.

The ten or eleven drivers lined up behind me were grumbling, complaining about trains in general and bemoaning the lost time. One guy said there was another way into the warehouse a few blocks down, which didn’t cross the tracks. It wasn’t really the truck entrance but it would work, he said. We all agreed we should have chosen that road as the last few cars came into view.

And then the slow moving train stopped, still blocking the crossing.

Ever made a U-turn on a narrow city street with a semi, pulling a 53-ft trailer? No? I hadn’t either at the time. But what I lacked in experience, I made up for in confidence and determination. I know, that’s a classic definition of one who is naïve.

The street was about forty feet wide with a five-foot sidewalk on either side. That gave me around fifty feet – and with a 53-ft trailer, even with the cab turned completely sideways, that wasn’t enough room. To complicate matters, buildings and power poles lined both sides of the street. It appeared I was trapped.

And then I saw the double garage-door style opening in the building on the right, inset into the building by six feet or so.

For those who do not know, when a semi makes a sharp corner, and keeps turning, the trailer will start to go backwards. You can actually drive the truck forward and back the trailer up at the same time. There is a bit of tail swing however, as the end of the trailer does not back straight.

I studied the opening. It was plenty wide enough to allow for the tail swing, and at fourteen feet, it was taller than my trailer. With the extra six feet, I decided there was enough room - if I could time it right and position the trailer exactly where it had to be when it reversed direction.

I should point out that in driving a truck, especially in tight places, there is absolutely no room for error. Misjudging anything will most likely result in some sort of damage, and is known as a preventable accident. Most trucking companies, including the one I worked for at the time, view this as cause for termination. But, I’ve always been more than willing to take a chance. There’s no fun in always playing it safe!

Now, here’s the part that makes driving truck fun. I calculated everything and mapped it out in my mind. I knew where I’d begin my turn, how sharp I had to turn, where the trailer had to be, how I would miss the poles on both sides of the street, and when to pull out of the turn so the blind side of my trailer didn’t slam into the far side of the building. I also knew I could make it – theoretically anyway. The fact remained to be seen if I could actually do it. And, of course, to add to the pressure, I had an audience of all the drivers who were lined up behind me – no doubt every one of them with more experience than I.

It took them only seconds to realize what I was doing – and start jabbering on the CB. Then they started taking bets on whether I would make it or not. How rude!

Despite the skepticism of most of the drivers, things went smoothly and I did make it. (You really didn’t expect me to tell the story if it had turned out badly did you)? As I drove away, the other drivers tried to talk the next guy into turning around as I had done. “No way!” he answered. “That other driver just got lucky.”

In a few minutes, I found the other entrance and was pleased to see the train still blocking the crossing as I backed into the dock. And all the other trucks were still waiting in line too. Then, on the dock, talking to the lumpers, we saw the train start to roll again – the opposite direction. “Those poor drivers,” one lumper said. “They’re still waiting, and that’s a long train.” Then he asked how many cars we thought it had, voicing his opinion that it was between 125 and 150. Not everyone agreed. Some said it was shorter, others just knew it had to be longer.

“Actually,” I spoke up. “192.”

Telemarketers can be annoying – to say the least. They call at the most inopportune times. All right, I’ll admit it; any time they call would be an inopportune time for me!

Thanks to the Do Not Call list, these days, I don’t get a lot of these calls. But before that welcomed list came about, telemarketing calls at my house were frequent – sometimes two or three a day. I’m not sure why they thought I’d be such an easy mark; I have never and will never buy anything from a telemarketer.

As I said before, telemarketers are annoying and simply hanging up on them wasn’t nearly satisfying enough. So, I usually tried to find ways to have fun. There are many ways to do this. Since a telemarketer is also a salesman, who drive me insane, they generally won’t shut up long enough to realize no one is listening. I’d lay the phone down and go do something else – just to see how long they would ramble on. I think the longest one went somewhere around twenty minutes! Or, I would engage them in conversation as if I were interested, let them tell me everything about their product – and then hang up. I had a few other methods of dealing with them too and what I tried to do was get them to hang up instead of me. That’s easier said than done.

One day, shortly after my wife and I bought our first house, a call came in from someone selling windows. I told the guy he’d called just a few days too late and that I’d just recently purchased fourteen windows. (I didn’t tell him they came with the house). I thought that would get rid of the guy but no such luck. He wanted to know what company I’d purchased my windows from and if I was happy with them because, he said, his company’s windows were far superior to any other. He added that I would still save money on heating and cooling if I were to purchase fourteen more new windows from him!

“So, you want me to just throw away the other windows I bought?” I asked.

Oddly enough, that’s exactly what he suggested! I hung up.

A few months ago, even though my number is on the Do Not Call list, I got a call from... yep, someone wanting to sell me windows for my house. I thought I’d try the same routine. This guy had a new solution for me. “We will buy your old windows if you purchase new ones from our company and have us install them.”

Really? I perked up!

The guy had already quoted me a price for my new windows so, I told him I’d be willing to make such a deal – and gave him the price I would be charging for my windows. Of course, my price was higher than his – by a lot. Hey, I’m entitled to make a profit aren’t I?

The guy on the phone said that wasn’t the way it worked, that the seller doesn’t get to set the price. Since when? I’m pretty sure that’s the way the free market system works. And hadn’t he, the seller, set the price for the windows he wanted me to buy? I said as much, to which he again replied that wasn’t the way it worked.

“So, you’re telling me you get to set both prices? Hardly seems fair.”

This time, I won. The guy hung up. But not before mumbling something about me being impossible to reason with. Hmm. Maybe I’ve found a new calling. My window of opportunity. I could become a telemarketer!

I didn’t eat much candy as a kid. Not that my parents didn’t allow it or anything, I just didn’t really like candy that much. I’d rather have real food – a steak, for example.

However, my wife is different. She could live on candy, and frequently does. And, after being married to her for more than half of my life, I seem to have developed a bit of a sweet tooth. Maybe it’s just that since she has candy around the house, I eat it. It is faster and more convenient than fixing a meal!

Still, I’d rather have a steak. That’s more healthy, right? Maybe not, as it has been a problem in the past.

One day, a lot of years ago, I woke up with a nagging pain in my lower right leg. Throughout the day it got worse, so much that it made it difficult to walk. My ankle was swollen, very inflamed, and extremely SORE! A severe case of gout, according to the doctor. For those who might not know, gout is a form of arthritis and it occurs when high levels of uric acid in the blood form crystals and then accumulate around a joint, usually in the feet or ankles. Certain foods, high in purines, contribute to the problem. In my case, the gout was most likely the result of eating too much red meat. Too much red meat? I wasn’t aware that was possible!

The cure was simple, I was told. The best way to stop gout was simply to limit my intake of red meat; otherwise, it would continue to flare up from time to time. Well, it took me about two seconds to realize that apparently, I was going to have periodical problems with gout for the rest of my life. Yes, I’ll admit I’m a little stubborn. Did I mention I like steak?

The good news is, that was my one and only experience with gout. Oddly, it never returned, and yes, I continued to eat red meat – and probably a lot of other foods that are known to cause gout. (I never really bothered to find out what they were). I’m not the health conscious type; I just prefer to eat what I like.

Well, all this writing about food has now made me hungry. But, that will be remedied shortly, as in a few minutes; I’m meeting my wife for lunch. I don’t know what she is having – probably candy. Me, I think I’ll have a steak.

I promise to keep this short so as not to bore any of you who cringe over the word history! At least, I’ll try! Maybe you’ll see why my teachers were never really impressed with me as a student. Here goes.

According to history, the Chinese are credited with invention of paper and, depending on which version of history you go with, this took place somewhere between the 2nd Century B.C. and the beginning of 2nd Century A.D., in A.D. 105. I prefaced this with “according to history” because evidence does exist that paper was around long before either of these dates.

Despite history’s claim that paper did not make it to Mesopotamia until much later (500 A.D.), the Bible mentions paper twice. The Gospel of John, written around A.D. 85, mentions not only paper, but ink as well. Some argue the writer of this book, John, could have heard of paper and ink from travelers. Maybe, but unless he familiar with using it, it’s doubtful he would reference it in the manner he did. Even if that were true, Isaiah also mentions the word–and that book was written (a little at a time) from 740-680 B.C. That’s about five or six centuries before the earliest reports of paper showing up in China.

To be fair, the paper in the Bible wasn’t exactly the same as in China. Instead of using wood pulp, beating and drying it, in Mesopotamia they used reeds and the pith (sinews) of the papyrus plant. (Which is where we get the word paper). The results were much the same. To me, it sounds like the Chinese just “borrowed” the idea, then used what they had readily available. They even stole the word! But, arguing with history is ultimately futile. Even if it’s wrong, it won’t be rewritten. So, we’ll let the Chinese have their claim to fame in the paper department. In any event, it is safe to say that paper has been around, in one form or another, for literally thousands of years.

Now, let’s jump ahead a few centuries to a more recent invention. The airplane. The Wright Brothers are generally acknowledged as the first to make a successful flight of a powered aircraft at Kitty Hawk, NC in 1903. However, recently, that too has become the subject of dispute. But again, you can’t really argue with history–all the proof is gone.

By now, I’m sure everyone is thinking I’ve finally lost it; that this blog has made absolutely no sense so far. My sanity, or insanity, notwithstanding, there is a point to all of this. More of a question really. And that is this; how in the world could it take so long from the invention of paper to that of airplanes? We’re talking thousands of years! And in all that time, there wasn’t anyone who folded paper and made it fly? Really? No one? In all that time?

Okay that was more than one question, I know. But I can’t imagine that somebody, somewhere didn’t notice that if they folded a piece of paper a certain way and dropped it off a house, or some other high place, it would become airborne. And if they did, wouldn’t the next logical step be to construct a more durable airplane? And then, maybe shoot for one big enough to carry people? I would have. But, history says no.

And now, I’m sure you see why my teachers were not overly impressed with me in school!

To quote an old song, “I don’t like spiders and snakes.” So, it’s really odd that I moved in with them - yet, that’s what I did.

The trailer I rented, out in the country, had sat empty for months. And by empty, I mean no humans occupied it. During that time, word had apparently spread through the varmint and critter communities that a “grand hotel” was seeking tenants. And they had come in droves – if spiders and snakes travel in droves. It didn’t take long to discover why the snakes had come; the prospect of a smorgasbord in the form of an endless supply of fresh, plump mice must have been very enticing.

The first thing I did was empty three cans of raid on the place. Then, I set out poison for the rats and mice. Once their food supply had dried up (somewhat), the snakes moved on to greener pastures – but not before I’d killed a bunch of them! I really don’t like snakes.

In case you’re thinking that made all things better in the trailer, let me assure you, it didn’t. First, the place was filthy, so much so, that cleaning did little to help. And it was tiny. At 8 x 24 feet, it was even smaller than My First Apartment, which I wrote about last week.

Although, one positive feature that stood out was the keyless entry. It wasn’t designed that way but the landlord had lost the key and was of no mind to replace it. “Just don’t lock the door,” was his advice. I’m not sure why I thought anyone would think anything inside the run-down tin box was worth stealing, but I felt it was important to lock my door. And did so. However, I didn’t waste a lot of time trying to pick the lock – a well-placed kick next to the latch popped the door open astonishingly well. I was 19 and didn’t really worry about causing any damage – but then; I’m not sure how anyone would have been able to tell.

The carpet had once been a deep shag with a nice design – but by the time I moved in it had become more of a dingy-colored mat. Then, there were the windows. Not a single one of them closed and most were broken. But even with the coming winter, which in Wisconsin means cold, as in sub-zero temperatures, I didn’t see the condition of the windows as much of a problem – not with the numerous holes of various sizes in the walls and floor. When the wind blew, the snow came right in. The propane furnace didn’t have a chance. It ran constantly and in three days the tank, a big tank, which I’d just filled, was empty.

Some days, my brain actually functions in an efficient manner, and this being one of those days, I quickly determined that at nearly $100 a tank, heat was something I could not afford. I’d already turned the thermostat down to 50 degrees and still the furnace would not shut off. I considered just not filling the tank but I needed gas for the stove. So, I came up with an “ingenious” solution. This solution involved a candle placed beneath the thermostat with a sizeable piece of tinfoil stuffed around it to hold the heat. That did the trick; the furnace did not kick on.

Of course, that presented a new problem of the water freezing up. But that was easily remedied by pulling the fuse to the water heater and shutting off the water. Conveniently, someone had run a pipe, with a heat tape wrapped around it and a separate shutoff, from the well into the tub. Unfortunately, the tub didn’t drain – even in the summer. To avoid going outside and turning the water on and off, I’d fill a big pan of water for washing up, cooking, and cleaning. The drawback was that if I didn’t use it right way, it froze. Every morning, I’d put the pan on the stove and convert my ice back to water – then I could make coffee. When I got home after work, I’d heat it again if I needed water for anything else. Yeah, it was a bit chilly in the place.

But I wasn’t entirely without heat. My waterbed, set up on the floor I’d reinforced, did an amazing job of keeping the frigid chill out of the air – as long as I stayed in bed with my head covered up. Seriously though, it did warm the ambient temperature in the trailer some. Not enough to melt the ice in the pan – but some. I did survive the winter – obviously, only to have the “icebox” magically transform into an “oven” a few months later.

Why did I put up with all of this? Well, I’m not sure. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that rent was only $100. Or, maybe it was simply because I was 19 and in a weird sort of way it was entertaining. I don’t know.

A few years ago, I took my kids to see the place and the trailer was gone. I felt a little like Squanto returning home from England as I stared at the empty field full of nothing but tall grass.

One last thing: this post really should have been titled, “What A Remarkable Woman My Wife Is,” because this trailer is where I lived when we got married. She moved in – and never once complained! Although, until now, I’m not sure she knew about the snakes!