Friends (and how I truly value them)

Firstly, I should preface this by saying that I am an unbelievably fortunate cove. I have relatively good health, I have a wonderful job, most of my faculties and haven't a real lot to whinge about. Having said that, I am human and some days are all light and sunshine, diamonds and gold and some are just pure unadulterated frog manure!

I won't go into details, but in quite recent times I have had quite a few of the frog manure variety. It seems to me that when you are getting things too good for a while, the good Lord, perhaps, or some miscievous imp or something else such as a rampant rangdephometer malfunction occurs and ensures that you are brought back to rudiments so as to ensure you don't get too full of your own self importance.

This is probably a good thing in the overall scheme of things, but bloody uncomfortable at the time.

Sometimes (such as very recently for me) it becomes quite disproportionate, leaving you feeling somewhat melancholy and despondant - at least it occasionally does with me! Most of the time I am upbeat and full of enthusiasm for life and each and every experience that comes my way .... even the negative things, however no one is immune from the occasional bout of what Sir Winston Churchill used to call "The Black Dog". Many people are fortunate and don't get a good bout of it (and I very rarely succumb), however it is a real thing.

Now we come to the real reason I am writing this post. I would like to publicly (yet anonymously) thank my best friend for lending me a supportive shoulder, listening without criticism and providing suggestions. This support was not insignificant and was hugely appreciated by me.

This person would, I am certain, prefer to remain anonymous, so I will reveal nothing about them at all - not gender, not age, not race, not location. I will only reveal that this person is my best mate.

I won't even reveal whether they are on the internet, much less whether they have the capacity to read this. The mere fact that I am writing this post helps me assuage my mind and demonstrate (at least to myself) that I truly appreciate this wonderful kindness visited upon me. Suffice to say, though, that they are tremendously appreciated even though this person devalues the significance of their input.

All I can say is that the support given was far from insignificant to me.

I wonder how many of us truly recognise the tremendous value of the friendship, companionship and just good old fashioned "mateship" that is bestowed upon us?

For myself, I am sure that I never recognise it enough and I certainly fail to acknowledge it enough - or have so failed in the past. One way or another, I will ensure that my friend is aware that I have written this - not to big note myself for acknowledging them, but because they should have all the bells rung and all the whistles blown and every accolaide accorded to them. I just wish that I could.

On that note, I should thank all my friends over the years for every pleasure, every joy, every tear, every gift that they have visited upon me. Without our friends and without their friendship, we are nothing - bordering on sub-human.

I thank you all, and I especially thank my best friend. Muchos gratias (or whatever the spelling is for that Spanish expression).

Indy International Singing Star - NOT

People have commented that my blog tends to be more of a "social commentary" than a "normal" blog or diary. This is quite correct. I am not sure whether it is that I am keeping the world at bay or whether it is that I am reluctant to put anything up on the internet that could be construed (or more likely misconstrued) as something other than what I intended.
A bit of an explanation of terms, first of all, for anyone reading this who may not be familiar with Australia, its customs and the significance of various things.




ANZAC Day. ANZAC stands for Australian & New Zealand Army Corps - or near as damn it is to swearing. On 25th of April 1915, the ANZACs were bloodied in the first and probably most senseless act of combat in our short history since we became a nation. We were so young as a nation that we had not yet formed our own fully fledged military and had combined with New Zealand (also a fledgling member of the then British Empire) to form a fighting force. Space precludes me from detailing the battle, but suffice to say that our forced acquitted themselves well (if for no good purpose other than to be cannon fodder for an incompetent leadership of the "Empire" Armies).




Thus ANZAC Day is considerd to have special significance to Aussies and Kiwis alike and is held in reverence by our people in much the save way as Veteran's Day is in USA etc.
A "Services" club is one set up by returned servicemen returning from the 2 World Wars and that have been carried on by the community ever since. Amongst other things and aside from being venues for entertainment and fund raising, this organisation supports the membership of returned servicemen and their families even long after the servicemen have died.




On ANZAC Day, we had a "do" at the local Services Club. A young lady by the name of Amber Lawrence (http://www.amberlawrence.com/) was to perform and perform she did!!! She was absolutely brilliantly spectacular. I haven't been to too many live shows in the past, but those I have been to include The Highwaymen, Adam Harvey, Troy Cassar-Daily and Travis Sinclair.

This young lass was every bit as good as the aforementioned groups and better than some of them. She did two 40 minute brackets, with a 10 minute break in the middle. This was all the time she could afford us as she (or her band or audio/light show people - not sure which) was prebooked to appear in Newcastle the next day. As Newcastle is 800 miles away, she wasn't able to perform an extended night. As a matter of fact, she went well out of her way to accommodate our town as it was a severe inconvenience for her to divert here at all.

The organisers were looking around for somebody or something else to fill in the interlude after Amber had finished and asked me (as Indy's Karaoke and Entertainment) to step up to the plate. What I do is provide the backing music so that others can bellow to their heart's content. I usually "do" a song to show the punters that even the host is no professional singer and that anyone can get up and have a fun time.

Here is an example of how I sound. I promise you it isn't what could be called music! Errrrr ... the musical track is - my "singing" isn't! Now remember, Amber Lawrence had just finished and she was nothing short or marvelous. Can you imagine for one moment how I might have been feeling trying to be "first up" after her show?????

This was filmed at home and not in front of an audience! I haven't got much I have done in front of anyone, simply because I am pretty bloody ordinary! Hahahaha this is very raw footage, too!

Compare the above with this! Incidentally, she sounds better live! She actually did this song last night. It sounds pretty swell in this clip but nothing compared to how she sounded last night - seriously!

I took some footage of Amber, which I will post once I get the OK from her so you can see why I was terrified! I have to say that the audience were very supportive of my very amateurish efforts. I had to do about 6 or 7 songs, then they became animated and involved and I stopped shaking!!!!!!!!!!!

I can report that I seriously have never been so uncomfortable in my life! How the hell does a rank amateur follow on from a professional? Anyway! I survived!

I should be "On The Road Again", so I best be closing off this posting.


Safe driving all!

Kindest Regards

Indy

Then And Now

(Warning - this IS off beat and quite risque` in places)


It is funny, you know, how some quite odd things cross my mind and how I view things, sometimes. Today, I want to touch on the topic of "Old School Truck Drivers" as best I can. I would suggest that my comments are based mostly on the "Aussie" industry. I will also give (possibly) examples of behaviour as well as any factors that I perceive as having influenced the way it is.

Let us not forget that our industry is merely a bit of a reflection of what are trends and tendencies in the wider community, in my opinion.

What actually constitutes an "Old School Truck Driver"? I can tell you that it doesn't often have much to do with age but does have plenty to do with experience and attitudes.

Stopping to see if old mate is okay (or at least calling out on the 2 way to see if he needs a hand) if you see him or her obviously broken down on the shoulder.

I do not, however suggest lady drivers stop to render assistance - for obvious reasons.

On the same note, move away to as far away from the stopped vehicle as it humanly and legally possible. You dunno if old mate is under the damned thing and whether your wind (for example) might create an additional issue for him or her. Remember, also, with the increase of lady truckies, it may be a lady who is in a predicament and, when I was raised, a gentleman should always seek to render assistance to a lady where practical. That would be an old school attitude. I will come back to this topic (of what happened if someone had a puncture or broke down) further down.

Don't drive all over the chuffer of the vehicle in front. It will gain you absolutely nothing, annoy the tripe out of the driver in front and, if he or she does have to brake in a hurry, you both have some paperwork to attend to. Keeping elbow room is old school.

I could go on and on about things out on the road, but I would become quite disheartened I am sure, because so few now exhibit proper driving principles, so I will change tack a little.

This probably is a conundrum for lady drivers - or could be solved in another manner but .............

In the old days, you had a great long line of shower heads sticking out of a blank wall. There were no cubicles, no "own" dunny, toot, schnitzenkrugenhousen, toilet or whatever else you may wish to call it. It was, in fact, a community shower facility, usually separated by a partition from individual toilet cubicles. Yeah! The toots were individual.

I have to tell you that I am guessing my dangly bits are probably not too dissimilar to most other bloke's. I never really went out of my way to have a gawk at them, to be honest, because I went to the shower to have a bloody shower, not compare tackle. Besides, if someone built like a regular donkey were to be showering alongside of me, I may end up with some sort of inferiority complex!!!!!! Having said all of that, I only bat for the errrrrr regular side and, whilst I don't hold anything against those who are ..... ambidextrious ...... or ...... have a bat each way or, indeed, visualise that their plumbing has other uses than those that I intend mine to be used for .... that's the point .... I don't hold anything for or against them (and never intend to, either, just quietly) and they are irrelevent to me, so why would I give a damn about their .....proclivities - errrr - or equipment???

One thing, though, when we had communal showers, no bastard was game to steal taps, shower roses, hooks, floor mats or anything else. No drongo was intent upon damaging the property of the establishment because if they were caught doing it (any of the aforementioned activities) they would get a complete and immediate ..... character adjustment. For sure and certain, absolutely no wanker would leave a ..... deposit, as happens all too often these days. This, by the way, hurts their fellow drivers and not the facility, so anyone who knows anyone who participates in this disgusting behaviour, just tell them that I have house trained my dogs as pups, so I am guessing they are demonstrating less intellect than an animal incapable of reason. ...... Come to think of it ..........

I had already "laid this post to bed" when I was talking to my best friend and was reminded that I had intended to make comment on something and it will kind of fit here, so here goes!

I had to use the toot in a roadhouse the other day and some ol' mate had already been there ahead of me. It seems that the urinal was too public a place for him. Perhaps he was concerned about "Donkey Dangler" sidling up beside him or something - who knows - but, anyway, it seems he had the urge to reduce pressure from his bladder. only trouble was, he must have figured that although he was too shy to stand with all the rest of the blokes at the ummmmmm Percy pointing station, he was gonna stand over the thunderbox without lifting the seat.

This would be fine if he was any sort of an aim, but it appears that even though he was using a part of his anatomy that, presumably, he had used for some time (like all his life), his accuracy left a little to be desired.

It just seems to me that if you can't hit the middle of a 2 foot diameter elipse, with a stream of by product that you've manufactured yourself, using your "friendly weapon" (that, incidentally, you were presumably born with), you genuinely ought not be using that same apparatus to make woopie with your dearly beloved or anyone else. Ol' mate, if you're that bad a shot at the porcellin, there's no telling where you might ummmmm end up when you're all full of ummmmmmm enthusiasm and excitement, looking for that part of herself that most men have difficulty discovering at the best of times! Sheesh! You might end up attempting to ......... "do things" to her sister's brother-in-law's beach ball!!!!

If your aim is really that pathetic, you best be cleaning up after yourself instead of leaving a helluver mess for the next poor bastard to have to deal with - or just sit down. Seems to me that those who can't manage a urinal should be sitting down in the first place. (I mean absolutely no disrespect to ladies, here in any way. You girls take appropriate action and I am bloody sure that you have more class than to leave a trail such s you would expect from a coyote marking his territory).

Two things occur to me from this:-

1/ No wonder women go ballistic about men not putting the seat up/down or whatever.

2/ It is no longer a surprise to me that truck stops now require people to hire keys or the myriad of other requirements they now have - which seems like an apt juxtaposition and segway back into the original story.

Anyway, blokes respected the establishments that provided facilities for our use and, in turn, that respect resulted in us being treated with immaculate and immediate showers. There was no need for a cleaner to fumigate the joint after use because the drivers didn't treat the show like a pig pen. And so it goes on .......

In the old days, there was free coffee, tea, bonox, milo and just about every other hot beverage provided, as well as free toast, because no one made a glutton of themselves and only took a serving of toast, had a cuppa and got going. The restaurant knew that, without a shadow of doubt, on his/her return, the driver would buy a feed that would more than make up for the couple of items provided gratis. Today, the clowns line up with them thermos flasks, steal whole loaves of bread, never buy anything and just abuse the amenities. No bloody wonder the "old style" joints are going broke or are being replaced by these "plastic fantastic" joints that any self respecting mongrel dog would avoid like the plague.

I said I would return to the topic of breakdowns.

In the old days, if you broke down, before long you had 1 bloke holding a torch, another dragging out his tools, another undoing the bolts (or whatever) whilst 4 others would have the BBQ's ablaze, cooking up a storm from the tucker provided by 3 others. After the repairs were effected, you ate your feed, had 3 or four beers, talked bullcrap half the night, went to bed and disappeared in all directions of the compass at daylight. Today, these bloody BTO's (Big Time Operators) would as soon as run over you whilst reading their emails on the go, whilst chuffing away on some "recreational" drug which, incidentally, almost always is a laxative. Laxative?????? you may ask. Yup. Turns your brains to schnitzenkrugen. Besides which, most of these so called recreational substances put you to sleep! Man! I don't want a sleeping idiot coming towards me! Ordinary ones are bad enough!

I think I would like the modern trucks and roads, the modern (mostly much more sensible) approach to most things safety coupled to the old time attitudes.

Maybe I am living with rose coloured glasses, but I do yearn for the times when we visited respect upon one another and we and the authorities are a grudging but mutual respect for each other and the public perceived us as "knights of the road". Through our own collective behaviour, we are largely (and quite often erroneously) considered to be maniacs by the public at large who, in turn, control out ultimate outcomes in life.

Anyway. This is growing into a manuscript of biblical proportions (again), so I best be bailing out!

Travel safely!

Shamed

Well, I have been shamed into it. Oh! No! Not into crawling down Pitt Street in Sydney, naked with a feather in my ear. Nor have I been shamed into going on a diet or running a marathon (although I am in awe of those who do both of these things), nor even working harder or anything else.

No! I have been shamed into trying to write a new blog post. This particular one will contain a number of different topics, almost at random, as the subjects occur to me.

Firstly, let me deal with something that concerns me greatly.

Someone whom I consider to be a very close friend is doing it pretty tough with certain situations here in this country.

It could be repeated anywhere else in the world.

This concerns me greatly because the “knock on effect” of what some may consider “pranks” could be (and my very well prove to be) catastrophic. Driving a truck is by its very nature a pretty stressful occupation. All of us that are in the industry and on the road (as against in an office or a workshop) try to mitigate the effects of that stress as much as possible by leaving our personal concerns at home, or in the car or anywhere else but inside the truck. It is called closing the door on our troubles and leaving them outside of work.

Most of us achieve this pretty well.

What happens if our worries are in the truck? For instance, the load allocator/dispatcher has an personal issue with you and gives you the schnitzenkrugen loads continually, or the mechanic(s) are incompetent or take umbrage at you (for whatever reason) and ensure that you have continual “niggling” and annoying problems to deal with continuously that don’t pose a direct threat to your safety, but impact upon your nerves. If a loader (or loader driver) continually loads the truck badly so that you have to continually adjust it, this, too, impacts upon your nerves and (often times) on your sleep time.

I will tell you what the “worst case scenario” could be. Instead of being 100% concentrating on the job of ensuring the welfare of the public at large are safe (often from themselves when they do some unpredictable and abjectly stupid things right there in front of you), you may be distracted by these work generated concerns to the extent that you may not react as quickly as you normally would or, alternatively, make a poor choice or decision.

I speak from bitter experience.

No matter how hard you try to not let these other work related issues impact upon you, if they are allowed to fester and brew up, there comes a point when the cumulative effect can be such as to adversely affect your decision making processes – possibly with monumental consequences.

This is why we have managers in most companies. Strange as it may seem, their job is to manage – not just the profitability of the job, or the dispersal of equipment, and not just the customer accounts and so on and so forth, but also their primary objective must be for the welfare of their drivers. This is over, above and beyond the welfare of all other staff members, simply because if that driver is stressed out unnecessarily the consequences to the public don’t even bare thinking about. They could be bloody and monumental.

If a dispatcher or an allocator gets “their nose outta joint”, the impact will be on the company in terms of profit or loss, or in terms of other things that are correctable.

If a mechanic gets a huff and works slowly, it impacts the company and other staff, but no one dies. Few (if any) mechanics are that dead set dumb to deliberately mess with steering, brakes or other safety issue components, so the public won’t be at risk. Many, however, have been known to deliberately niggle drivers and, sooner or later they get caught out. I won’t mention just how they niggle for fear of giving some around me ideas!!!!!!!!!!!!

If a driver makes a bad decision, someone dies.

That’s it. Someone dies. Dead. No come back no more.

The impact of such an event, particularly if it can be traced (and it can be as there have been a number of such high profile cases right here in Oz), is on everyone. The family of the deceased, the driver and his or her family, the allocator, the manager, right through to the loader or anyone else that be shown to have had any input into the chain of events. In Australia this is enshrined in law. In other countries (at this stage) it is merely on their conscience. I am certain that this will change in the foreseeable future because, sooner or later, the public will demand it.

My suggestion is that all who read this particular post should do a “google” search on “Chain of Responsibility Legislation” on Australian sites and you will find why such legislation was introduced and the impact it is having on the road transport industry, right from the farm through to the final end of whatever the product is.

Each and everyone in this country who has involvement in any way, shape or form is held jointly responsible for anything that happens out on the road.

For example, if the farmer allows a truck to leave his farm overloaded (whether he has a means of checking legal weights or not) and the truck is involved in a collision resulting in loss of life, then the farmer is jointly held responsible and will go to prison.

If a dispatcher fails to ensure that the driver takes adequate rest breaks and there is a crash involving loss of life, then there’s a good chance both will go to prison.

If a mechanic signs off on sub standard work and a crash results in the death of someone, it is quite possible that the mechanic and only the mechanic will be held responsible and will, more than likely, go to prison on his or her own.

Just because these laws have not yet been introduced elsewhere don’t think for one minute that they won’t be. These laws were rigorously opposed by employer groups, by farming groups and by just about every other group known to man, but they are now a reality Downunder.

I have to say that such laws should never need to be passed if those charged with the task of managing do just that – manage.

If those who are charged with the task of allocation, dispatch with fairness and equanimity then there is no need to have such draconian legislation introduced.

If mechanics just do their job to the highest standards, then no one is at risk.

If anyone else involved with the welfare of the driver and his or her stress levels (such as loaders, forklift drivers and so on) just do their job with the minimum of fuss and are mindful that the driver ALREADY has enough on their plate, then the job is right.

If anyone who can has a negative impact on the driver they should be fully aware that they are risking, basically, their own loved ones, because, quite simply, it may be your loved one who makes a silly error in front of that driver and that driver may fail to respond quickly enough or make the right decision. Anyone want to take that one on?

All pretty simple stuff I would have thought!

This post has grown like topsy, so I will save the rest for another post!

Keep it safe, folks!