Everything is New, But Me

High-above I-5, Seattle, Washington

Monday everything changes. It’s all new.

Wednesday was the Vancouver launch of I Feel Great About My Hands: And Other Unexpected Joys of Aging where editor Shari Graydon, five contributors and I read excerpts from our essays.

One of the exasperating, yet sometimes comical effects of aging is the easily distracted memory.

The hearse, spied in an underground Manhattan parking lot, made us laugh. Check out the yellow sign in the side window. See the detail photo below.

Settling in on the plane — in my surprise upgrade to Economy Plus with extra legroom, must have been the 50-ish woman at United check-in who saw a kindred soul — bound for Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to meet McGyver and the truck, I was congratulating myself for remembering EVERYTHING.

Six pairs of glasses, including four expensive pairs with progressive lenses, two of them, essential for driving, my laptop, the power cord, my cellphone, the power cord, my iPod — the same iPod that I found in my purse on the trip, after McGyver spent an hour-and-a-half searching the truck for it — the power cord, my vitamins, supplements, glucosamine sulphate powder to stave off the onset of osteo-arthritis in my lower spine so I can continue to drive, wild fish oil with its Omega 3s, Complex B to relax my extremely tight internal spring and Vitamin D. My passports, Nexus card, credit cards, Canadian and American wallets, my Commercial Driver’s license, truck shoes, mouthguard and the necessary pieces of my Eileen Fisher civilian wardrobe, jeans, tunic top, camisole and cowl-necked sweater, the shawl McGyver brought me from Bolivia years ago and all my sentimental jewelery. Everything else, I now view as expendable. Nice but replaceable at TJMaxx or Target.

There’s no free lunch – ever.

Leaning back into the hollow of my window seat, I felt my lower spine sink against the well-worn seat — F@$%!*&#ing Hell!! — my $40, inflatable, Relax-the-Back cushion is IN the rental car. I forgot it. More Nomad Tax.

The Hertz attendant said: “Make sure you have all your personal belongs.” I remembered the GPS and the power cord, I took all the sunglasses, I even cleaned the junk, empty water bottles and Starbucks sleeves out the car. I looked inside. I must have looked directly at it, it was dark, I turned around — I really had to pee — grabbed the receipt, my suitcase and totebag and headed at a gallop to the terminal. Arrrrgh!

Watching the snowcapped Olympic mountains as we head south, I can’t figure out what’s worse, losing the cushion, which we both use and like, and having to invest the time to find another one, it probably won’t be easy, and pay $40 or having to tell McGyver that I lost the cushion and sentence myself to several weeks of reminders about everything so I don’t forget.

My cushion aside, the Bose driver’s seat is installed with lumbar support and I have another lumbar roll in the truck, I am heading back to the truck with a sense of excitement and trepidation.

Monday morning we will be in Uniontown, Ohio, near Akron, for orientation with FedEx Custom Critical. Everything will be different, not just the logo on the door. Another steep learning curve. One of the big challenges is that FedEx Custom Critical has no terminals. We will be assigned a trailer, which will be with us all the time, while we are waiting on a load, when we go to a grocery store, when we go to the shop for maintenance, all the time. No more bobtailing. We will always be looking for parking for our seven-story building.

The freight lanes will be different, the customers will be different, there will be new truckstops to learn. The grocery stores will change. Everywhere we go, we will have to decide if the parking has enough room to turn a 53 foot trailer. Our trucking mentors Salena and Eddie squeeze their Big House and 48 foot flatbed trailer into restaurant lots and shopping malls. They are fearless.

With the expedited freight, requiring personal attention, we are expecting to run fewer miles and see higher freight rates and have more time to stop and enjoy the sights.  We have our list stops. There’s the pullout at Walker Lake north of the Amergosa desert in Nevada on the way from Las Vegas to Reno. We’re hoping see  Marfa, Texas again — the only town of 2,000 which has had a page of restaurant reviews in the New York Times — and enjoy the Food Shark mobile Mediterranean kitchen, the lamb was yummy. We’re hoping for loads to Canada, beyond Toronto, northern Alberta, Saskatchewan, New Brunswick and maybe the Yukon.

Next week, the wheels will be turnin’ again, we need to be earnin’.

P.S. When I told McGyver about the lost back cushion, I asked him, “don’t say anything, please don’t say anything, I know, I know, don’t say anything, okay?” Ah, he couldn’t resist. “So much for the discount I found on the rental car,” he mumbled.

4 thoughts on “Everything is New, But Me

  1. Sorry about your lost back cushion…at least this time the item you lost is cheap to replace.Eddie and I will tell you all about our secret parking spots. And if we can get our spread-axle into parking lots, you can certainly maneuver your tandems into anywhere your little heart desires!Can't wait to hear more about the FedEx training and the Bose seat. Talk to you soon!


  2. Hey Marlaina (hi McGyver):I can't lurk any longer without saying how much I enjoy your blog and the guffaws it prompts. I don't envy you the paperwork, and the bureaucracy, and the deadlines (you never get away from those, eh?), and the hours of sitting, and the lost this and the costly that, but gee, I l-o-v-e road trips, and your adventures are the ultimate. Good for you! I expect your blogs will make it to book form any day now… if not, why not?By way of ID, I'm JxJ's landlady. Consider this your current memory test!


  3. WF, I passed the memory test, of course I remember. Yes, I'm hoping on cobbling this all together for a book. The hours of sitting are great, depending on where we are. San Francisco last weekend. Two days of biking, fabulous temperature, mostly sunny skies. Each weekend is different.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s