Transcontinental tales

All right, so let's see if I can stop talking about myself and start talking about some of the people I meet.

Patrick Clancey is a trainer for a large trucking company. He is originally from Long Island but now lives near Knoxville, Tennessee. Equipped with more of a Brooklyn accent--as opposed to a Long Island accent--Patrick is a huge Ozzy Osbourne fan, which seems to drive his current trainee Salim ("SAH-leem") Napier a little nuts sometimes because, as you might have guessed, Salim is black and likes R&B music. It's not a hostile kind of nuts, though; more like a "Jeez, I wish he'd turn that shit off" kind of nuts.

Patrick and Salim get along very well, and I got along well with both of them for over 5,000 miles. In their cab you'll hear a lot of playful references to chicken, watermelons, and crackers, as well as some other usually-racially-derogatory terms, but it's all in fun in their particular Freightliner.

On to Patrick: When Pat is sleeping, he is both funny and scary. He apparently has narcolepsy and sleep apnea, along with some other custom-made, freaky sleep habits. When he sleeps, his snores sound like a lion's roar. He often sleeps sitting up, occasionally talking in his sleep, making for many confusing moments.

There is a fine line between consciousness and unconsciousness with Patrick. When he is not driving, he bounces back and forth between sleep and not-sleep just about every few seconds. There were many times when he would be sitting on the passenger seat asleep, only to wake up and light a Pall Mall, take a hit or two, then fall back asleep in an upright position with the lit cigarette between his fingers. A few seconds later he would wake up and take another hit, then likely fall back asleep for ten or twenty seconds. During these episodes, Salim and I usually paid pretty close attention to Patrick because, well, that's kinda freaky.

Even more freaky was when Patrick "drove the truck" in his sleep. Sometimes when Salim was driving and Pat was sleeping in the passenger seat, Pat would reach for various instruments on the truck's instrument panel, like the parking brake controls. Salim would have to keep a close eye on Pat at moments like this because even when asleep, Pat's brain seems to remain operating an 18-wheeler.

Thursday morning while sleeping in the passenger seat, Pat reached for his door handle and pulled on it, slightly opening the door. Salim was quick to notice this and vigilantly shouted something to Pat, in an attempt to snap him out of it. It worked; Pat woke up and pulled the door shut.

This kind of stuff happens very regularly when Pat is not driving. Obviously it is kind of stressful for the other people in the cab. But when Pat is behind the wheel, he's as solid as a rock. He does not drift in and out of full consciousness; his attention is totally on the task at hand. He is a very safe driver.

As of right now, Salim has about a week of training left before he becomes a regular employee. Even with the good relationship between Salim and Pat, I'm sure Salim is more than ready to move on. His nerves must be totally shot by now. He told me he is going to be a team driver when he finishes his training with Pat. I don't know if that is his choice or if you have to start out as a team driver; it sounded as if he chose to drive as part of a team.

Anyway, I'll probably see one or both of these guys somewhere down the road. Pat and I exchanged phone numbers, so I can see myself potentially climbing back into his blue Freightliner again someday. It certainly will not be for a ride back and forth across the entire country, though.

Here's a pic of Salim. I never got around to taking a picture of Pat.

In other news, I'm going to wait until tomorrow to leave Brad's house, rather than today, because the weather is supposed to be a little better tomorrow. I intend to write another post later today about some things we've done here in Evansville.

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In something totally unrelated... Brad, I looked up the lyrics to that Pretenders song we heard at the airport. Here's what she says:

GONNA USE MY ARMS
GONNA USE MY LEGS
GONNA USE MY STYLE
GONNA USE MY SIDESTEP
GONNA USE MY FINGERS
GONNA USE MY, MY, MY IMAGINATION

I've been wondering for years what the hell she says there. (I'll probably forget in five minutes.)

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