Catching Up WithTrucks

Long time since the keypad hit the blog page. Seven months.

Why no blogging, commenting or musings here? Busy learning a new trade made stopping by here tough to regularly accomplish for me. Also, I can say some shit never changes. Rants, pleas, statistics, preaching, cajoling, anecdotes and the like just wore out after awhile.

Need affordable health care? Want jobs with benefits? Want clean water? Like music, books and art but wonder why all things culture got packaged into a phone? Me, too!

Another thing, Facebook knocked and I answered. Stories that cropped up eventually popped up on my status posts. Quick comments or a brief explanation as to why I felt an issue should be addressed one way gobbled up some time and staying in touch with friends for brief moments in a day seemed enough.

My new trade is booking hauls for trucks as an independent agent for a national logistics/freight company. Very interesting days, and opens up a whole new world dialog on what passes for life in the slow lanes. Driving 10 to 12 hours a day making a living exacts a hefty toll for those who connect American commerce. Most people just take for granted what's  on the shelves of the WalMarts, Targets, Costcos, Krogers, Safeways and Trader Joe's of America, and never think of the long hours of hauling all those products across the battered and bruised highways and byways of this big country.

Once upon a time, in a stranger and more archaic version of this country when things were just as shitty, but the gap between the rich and poor was not quite so great, truck drivers used citizen band radios to communicate with each other on the roads. CB radios became the rage for the gullible and fad driven masses of this country. I worked at an electronics shop in the mid seventies for awhile, and high fidelity components were a very small drop in the corporate bucket compared to what CB radios and all the paraphernalia that went with them poured in. CB radios gave the world a glimpse of what social networking would become on the Internet and all its little devices. Shocking newness meets rude, profane and eventual turnoff.

Trucks and truckers were cool by the mid to late seventies. They even had a bunch of pop tunes and movies made to celebrate the trade and the people living the nomadic anti-corporate independent lifestyle. The bad guys menaced in very different garb and from very different backgrounds in the fictional world when trucks flashed briefly on the pop scene. Bad guys were commies and the mob back then.

When I think of it now, maybe the mob just won the war. We know what happened to the commies, and they did not win. By the 1980s all the anti-trust rules were being tossed, and this just after the big Bell phone monopoly breakup of the 1970s. Trucks and their drivers were yesterdays big thing. By the 1990s the kings of the freight lanes were being forced to pee into little testing pots by the roadside for the privilege to drive all those marvelous low priced WalMart goods across the country. Can't trust 'em, can't trust anybody became the rule in America.  The unions, even the mighty Teamsters, possessed all the clout of an aged emphysema patient trying to protect jobs and benefits turf. 

The new millennium is past ten now, and trucks are the fragile glue holding commerce together in this broke-down palace of a nation. The guys and gals I talk to on a daily basis are some of America's last independents. They drive or find and post freight across America as independent contractors. Some are incorporated. Some are sole proprietors. All struggle, and many without basic health coverage with little to no retirement savings. You can't raise rates if too few in the general public can afford the hike. It's where we hobble today. Thanks for stopping by.

"Turn Out The Lights The Party's Over"

From time to time sports strikes a nerve. Today's the day, even though tumultuous and terrible events in the world have dominated the news of late.

Earthquakes, tsunami and nuclear meltdown in Japan.  This disaster should give the world pause, and maybe purpose in helping to rebuild this battered nation.

Conflicts in Northern Africa, which unfold with startling speed and battle long time despots one by one in Tunisia, Egypt, Libya and Yemen with possibly more to follow. These uprisings should give the world even more pause, and wake up those who still think its business as usual to reward a few families at the expense of an entire region's population.

Collective bargaining for most public union employees gone in Wisconsin, with other states and their Republican governors throwing down the same gauntlet. These actions should make everyone in America pay attention to the plight of federal, state and local governments when revenues disappear due to economic downturns, and taxes are considered criminal. This in a nation where the tax burden is one of the very lowest among all major nations in the world.

But today I turn to the sports section and the NFL showdown between owners and players.

Everyone I speak with regarding the events in Northern Africa seems supportive of the little people overthrowing the dictators, even though the regimes toppled all were aligned with US government policy in the Middle East.

This is not the same thing I hear when the chat focuses on collective bargaining disputes between public employee unions in Wisconsin and Ohio where those states' newly elected Republican governors appear intent on curbing public union influence. On this topic, friends offer staunch support for the unions, or view unions as having too much influence over public policy, or flatly state there should be no unions in government. 

When I chat with friends about the potential NFL shutdown I hear comments ranging from, "Billionaires fighting with millionaires is pathetic" to "Who cares who wins as long as I have my football this season?" This is pretty much the same response regarding the NBA, only with many more, "Who Cares?"

Granted union support in America would appear to be at an all time low, and the players today seem to all be making vast sums of money in both sports so I understand the quandary in taking a side on the issues over potential game stoppages. In the NFL, curiously from my perspective, it is the owners who have decided the players make too much and moved at this juncture to demand a much larger slice of each industry's total revenue by opting out of their last agreement. 

The NFL today, by all accounts I have read, is a  $9 billion to $9.5 billion a year industry. Faye Vincent, writing for Scrippsnews, gives an interesting take on what a prolonged lockout could mean. As a former Commissioner of Major League Baseball, Mr. Vincent, has a unique view point on the matter.

The major sticking point on the surface is money, and how to share it. Currently owners take a billion dollars off the top from all the money generated for themselves and the League office, and then split the remaining pie with the players on a 60% to 40% arrangement. The players receive 60% of all the remaining revenue and the League/owners get 40% based on the Collective Bargaining Agreement made in 2006. This works out to basically 53.3% share for the players and a 46.7% share for the owners.

It is a players game. Nobody watches the televisions or attends the games to see the owners. The NFL, and its owners, determined that the union representing the players would not see the ledger books on what the costs of upkeep and improvements are while negotiating. The League has determined the NFLPA, the players union, has all the information it needs to negotiate. This showdown has been in the works for about three years now.

An added layer to the negotiations began to take shape after the 2008 season when owners were planning to vote on an expanded season of 17 to 18 games. This announcement occurred at an NFL owners meeting in March of 2009 as reported by the New York Times. The 18 game season issue began to really heat up in September, 2010 when the Indianapolis Colts president, Bill Polian, announced to the world that the 18 game season was a "fait accompli" on his weekly radio show.

A big wrinkle surfaced this season over the plans to expand the number of regular season games when the amount of ferocious helmet to helmet hits became too ferocious, and knocked out too many star players. The fact that we have had two high profile former players, Andre Waters and Dave Duerson, commit suicide over head trauma issues these past three years serves as a compelling statement that adding games to an already very dangerous sport is not in the best interests of the players.

The players already know the risks of injuries, and how they linger long after they have left the game. I had a good friend many years ago in San Francisco who worked for a former 49er star, Charlie Krueger, who in the early 1980s owned a liquor store with a great wine selection. Paul, my friend, came to know Charlie pretty well over the years while he worked perfecting his wine tasting skills. One thing Paul knew from the outset of his employment there was that Charlie Krueger endured extensive pain every day and could barely walk.

At the time I was working in San Francisco, and Paul was doing double duty between Tower Records and Charlie's liquor store, Mr. Krueger was suing the NFL and the San Francisco 49ers for failing to let him know the severity of the injuries he suffered while playing. Charlie actually won a judgment with a decent settlement for his day in court, and is still alive. The guy has always been one of the toughest men on the planet. He should never have had to go through what his organization put him through. Click on my little link to get the full details of what this 49er great went through. It is quite a story, but certainly not rare you can look across the Bay at what Jim Otto endures, or in Pittsburgh and what Mike Webster endured, and so on.

Another factor in these the negotiations over lengthening the NFL season, and trimming the amounts of money the players receive, is how long the average NFL player lives. It might surprise some of you who do not follow the sporting world to know that the life expectancy for the average NFL player is only 55 years. The St. Peterburg Times reported back in 2006 that for every year in the NFL a player can subtract three years off his life expectancy. Fortunately for the NFL, and its players, the average career stay in the League is only three and a half years. Not even long enough to get a pension and medical coverage after you retire. I might add, with injury preconditions health insurance for the already afflicted is very expensive, and difficult to find in America.

There are other issues at play in the standoff, such as rookie pay scales and better benefits to former players who are strapped by a pension that does not pay enough to cover costs of living and medical care. Most fans are in the same boat as the retired NFL players these days.   

The NFL owners opted out of the last collective bargaining agreement in 2008. Many of them felt they made a big mistake in signing the last bargaining agreement, which was done with Paul Tagliabue as Commissioner, and the late Gene Upshaw as the head of the NFLPA.

The game of professional football has never been more popular. Television ratings for the past two Super Bowls are the highest for any television show ever broadcast. The majority of the owners are worth at least one billion dollars, and the game has certainly been financially rewarding to each and every family who owned a team. With all that money, and with all the perks that go with all the prestige of NFL ownership, why are billionaires so upset over the current financial arrangement with the players who have performed so well in the near two decades since the first honest collective bargaining agreement was struck?

This work stoppage for all the talk about the money, or at least the near term money, is strictly about power. The owners demand they be recognized as the sole authority on everything that has to do with professional football in America. The ownership group certainly knows the work story on the street. Union membership in the USA now stands at under 12%. There are now more union workers in government than in the private sector, even though the private sector roughly employs a little more than five times than does the government. According to the US Government  Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) only 6.9% of the private sector workforce was unionized and the highest age group of membership was for people aged 55-64. The lowest total was found in the youngest age demographic 16-24.

Although it will be very difficult for the owners to cry over lost profits at this stage, and none of them will be moving from their palatial estates into more modest quarters anytime soon, the anti-union stance we have seen throughout the country with public unions and their pensions being hammered by conservatives everywhere  has the NFL owners smelling blood on this issue in my opinion.

The players to avoid a lockout must decertify their union. All teams voted on this procedural move over the course of the last season, and unanimously voted to go through this process should collective bargaining breakdown. A lockout forces restraint of trade and lawsuits will follow. It is where we are today with papers filed and awaiting court dates, and ultimately, which court will decide the matter.

If public opinion had any influence it would be hard to bet against the players. They can always wheel out former stars like Willie Wood who can no longer walk, or John Mackey the first head of the NFLPA, who now no longer knows who he is.  But, public opinion does not count for much these days, because public opinion is always determined by what questions get asked.

Are you in favor of taxes?

Are you in favor of the best public education for your children?

My Precious Valentine

Valentine's Day! Usually this meant an ouch day for me on February 14ths gone by. Not these days. Holiday notches on the calendar now strictly belong to the advertising and marketing wanks of the world, and those who fall prey to their craft. No matter what the holiday, I no longer listen to the guilt driven messages from jewelry companies, auto manufacturers, chocolate empires and floral conglomerates trying to worm some more money from me on useless or redundant consumer goods intended to pacify all those I held/hold most dear.

In my life I have made a ton of mistakes, but in love I found myself lucking out. This small post today reflects how I feel about my precious Valentine.


Smiles on a rainy afternoon
Sympathetic beats to the well worn tune
Nods of reassurance when wild winds blow
The gentle touch that lifts when a spirit sinks low

Timeless sparkles always in those soft young eyes
Curiosity speaks softly, no veiled disguise
The soft voice lifting conversations from old to new
The most sublime gift of life is simply to be with you

My precious Valentine, Vicky.



    

2011 Spare Change

These days the sky hangs like a wet gray sheet over the Central Valley. My cats use the outdoors now only for private business practices, and then scurry back inside to snooze and munch some treats as their daily ritual of marking the calendar one repetitive scratch after the other. The overcast beats record rainfall, but crummy days and the same forecasts dampen the spirits.

A new year, 2011, with so much old moldy laundry from years past still hanging on the lines or soaking the hampers. The nation passed a health care reform bill in 2010. No one in America can say it was a perfect solution to the giant mess that health care costs and practices evolved into over a couple of centuries of neglect, but it moved the cylinders in the right direction while working to include more people who had been separated from the insured pile and were excluded from the health care cycle. Estimates peg those without health insurance at over 50 million right now.The reformed health care legislation does not fully start until 2014, so the nation will stagger for three full years before any real impact will be felt. This knowledge has not stopped the Republican Party from campaigning to repeal the reforms because they cost too much.

Yes, covering everybody with health insurance in a nation does cost a bundle. Ask the European nations and Japan, or Canada and Australia. The tax rates in those countries are significantly higher than the tax rates found here in America for all classes of people and trade. But, in those nations everyone gets covered and gets reasonable care. Here, we have a very small segment of our population in control of all the wealth, and these very elite people argue they are taxed too much. I would ask any of you reading these paragraphs how the Bush tax cuts made America a better place from 2002 to today's 2011. Leave a comment, and I'll read it and respond.

So, as 2011 gets fully underway we see the Bush Tax cuts extended. We see the small health care reforms enacted in 2010 threatened with repeal, and businesses showing no signs of adding significant numbers of jobs for all those displaced from the past three plus years of economic contraction. What is interesting to note is that those on Wall Street appear to be doing just fine. The Dow-Jones now stands at 11,700 points, which is a 44% gain over the low that occurred in March of 2009. As Tom Petty would say, "It's good to be King."

Here's an old dude who knows the score.



I hear my big cat call me. I need to rustle some dry salmon, and work on the chord changes of this song.

Of Was and When

The leaves turn color, shiver and fall this month. This next six week stretch offers the least amount of daylight for the year here in the northern hemisphere. The elections and Thanksgiving marked this November. I do appreciate the facade of democracy, and I'm thankful to so many people I know and love.

I found out today I won't be saying, "good to to see you after so many years" to a friend from my childhood. I read his obituary in the local paper this morning. I did not know he lived about 45 minutes away in Tehachapi. I looked for his name in the phone books here locally when I moved back to Bakersfield after having lived in Northern California for thirty years, but never found him or his number.

His father was Frank senior. He was Frank junior, but his mother always called him Dober. The affectionate moniker stuck with his early mates, and I was one. 

Sometimes it seems like just moments ago, Dober and I scurrying to the Y in a much smaller version of Bakersfield crammed inside some parent's car for basketball, gymnastics or handball.  I can still smell the insides of that old building to this day with the odd mixture combining pounds of perspiration with a sprinkle of Right Guard rubbed with dashes of rubber soles and urine. I think the YMCA ritual lasted about two years when gym interest and rides petered out altogether in the early Sixties. Maybe the Beatles killed our Y evenings, but probably the sight of all those screaming girls wanting a piece of the Beatles on television sparked the new peter principle in the both of us.

Around that period I remember my parents giving me my 13th birthday present early. It was a Fender Musicmaster II redesigned from the Mustang model, and an upgrade from the 3/4 scale model Leo Fender introduced and manufactured in the mid 1950s. The gift came with a fashionable small Silvertone amplifier complete with both reverb and tremolo. My mom and dad had caved to my relentless whines of guitar noxiousness, and because Dober's parents had gifted him with a Gibson ES-355 Chuck Berry model  a couple of months earlier. With good luck and parental peer pressure we were both going to be rock stars.

We took lessons together for a year or so, learning the fundamentals, some scales and some songs along the way. The plaster from those little rooms must still echo  "So tired, tired of waiting, so tired of waiting for youuuuu." Sometimes I catch a memory of the many trips to Parlier's Music Store on Baker Street  in the Beetle Dober's dad owned.  Dober was never impressed with audio capability of his dad's Volkswagon Bug.  Over these trips we discovered guitar playing was hard work, and to our amazement we both had crummy vocal skills. We seldom practiced together, though we got together occasionally for sleepovers and wild on-foot midnight meanderings throughout lesser Bakersfield. After a year of joint lessons at Parlier's with two instructors, Jeff and Denny, we went solo citing musical differences.

The next years found us moving to the same schools, but no longer sharing the same classrooms. My extracurricular interests at this juncture began to focus on bank shots from concrete courts or from slate tops covered in felt. Our strokes found different streams and crossed hardly at all. Our parents who had often dined out, and over cocktails shared Shelley Berman and Bob Newhart records together during our fast-friend times of those early Sixties, seemed to lose touch with one another as well.

Sometime in the very early Seventies I saw Frank for the last time. I think it was at the junior college here in town, but it could have been at CSUB or some spot downtown just as likely. I thought he mentioned pursuing a career as a fireman, but from the obituary that thought now seems the stuff of made-up memory-filler from a brief meeting nearly forty years ago.

I read today Frank was a certified public accountant for many years with Deloitte-Touche, the audit and tax consulting giant of financial services. I would have liked to explore the Neil Young refrain "numbers add up to nothing" with an old friend and accountant, and find out what tunes he had been working on over all these years. But, as his chronicle today mentioned some health issues forced a premature retirement and a much too quick departure from this world.

So after all these years, Dober, you remain for me forever young.