Working Christmas Eve

   Nobody knows love like eating ham and eggs on your way to work on Christmas Eve. So how do I mean this you ask, well the ham was a gift from my job at Northwest Propane and the eggs were cooked by my fiance so that I could have a quick meal in the morning when she wasn't there so I would not go hungry every morning while running out the door. It was part of her fight to keep me away from the golden tombstones, a.k.a. McDonald's drive-thru.
   I can't say that I could taste the care or love in the food while eating it at Southlake traffic lights, but I could feel the fore thought and consideration that people had for me in making sure I had been taken care of. This is during the time of year that depression, suicide, and an introverted sense of hopelessness takes control of many people who become the polar opposite of the Christmas spirit. This is when all feelings of loss, abandonment, joylessness, and a bottomless hunger that can never be satisfied takes over those who don't want to be saved or have given up the fight to be happy, or are just worn out from trying which they call pretending. They have shut their eyes to the little gifts in life that make daily life worth living everyday of the year, not just around the holidays. They can't see the bowls of eggs and ham for breakfast because their pain has closed their eyes and their hearts.
   This all also goes back to the time when I was in the hospital and I could feel God telling me to be more grateful for what I had which helped to make everyday is an adventure in my world. After this revelation of sorts, I really could appreciate the small things in life and see the blessings others give without anticipating repayment. I truly am grateful for the honey glazed hams from my work (which my fiance will make more food with than I can eat when she comes over), and all the little ways that my red head makes a big impact in my life. I will not reveal any sappy details about her, but I am always telling her that I love her more than she knows....but then she might, her cooking has made me lose weight since it is all real food....the stock market price just dropped for McDonald's.
 

Don't Paint Your Propane Tank Brown

I really don't know if people know anything about propane at all. Some people honestly don't like the fact that they have a big bulky tank in their yard that has to be filled every year with money they claim to not have. They consider driving the truck into their driveway actually becomes an 'intrusion' to their privacy and I become the outsider trespassing on their property long enough to fill their tank, collect payment and leave tracks in their yard. (Side note: I don't like to leave the concrete if I can at all avoid it.) 

I do run into those however who want to paint a tank a color to match the house they live in.  If it's white, aluminum or other heat-reflective color this is not a problem.  But imagine a tank painted brown, dark brown to color coordinate with the walls and trim on your single-wide, 16' X 80' trailer. It can be a very confusing task to try and explain the scientific reasons why I cannot legally fill their tank because it is the wrong color. This is not like the popular TV show What Not To Wear and the poor person keeps mixing plaids with stripes, this is about the fact that darker colors make the tank hotter thus making the liquid propane expand in large quantities so the additional heat can make it explode. Nature is not always kind, and it is a community service to correct this misconception if they want their tank to last a few more years of which are also not cheap.

The most volatile characteristic of liquid propane is how it reacts to temperature.  At 0° F outside temperature liquid propane will not expand much in a tank at all and will have hardly any vapor pressure.  However, at 117° F, which is known to happen in Texas, a fully filled propane tank (at about 80 % of  listed water capacity of the tank)  with a working pressure of 250 psi has a very serious chance of spewing gas through the relief valve like Old Faithful.  Darker colors retain heat, this is why heat-reflective colors are required for the outside surface area of the of a propane storage tank. Even Cliff and Stacy would agree that lighter colors in the summer time would totally lower the sweat factor, and the psi pressure in your tank.

When a tank spews forth like a raging geyser it then becomes a liability and costs hundreds of dollars to fix. Also prompting calls to the fire department and other authorities who will in turn ask the question as to why their propane tank was painted brown. Evacuation of the area might even be mandatory costing people valuable time away from their homes. Once a relief valve pops off, then the tank can no longer be used in the storage of liquid propane until this valve is replaced, costing unnecessary dollars and down time.  We certainly want to help protect our friends and neighbors safe by being able to keep the water heaters and ovens going. Everybody wants hot food and showers, so is it worth the cost to paint your propane tank brown? Vanity cannot afford this cost.

Propane Tank In Paris

   Today I left a warm bodied red head sleeping in my bed, who woke up when I kissed her, grabbed my shirt and pulled me in closer. My mind is only a blur of this image as I drive to Paris Texas to install a propane tank. There is a ziplock bag of orange craisin scones complete with white glaze sitting on the seat next to me, she insists that she is not Martha Stewart, but my recent weight loss due to her cooking says otherwise. I don't think Hank Hill knows what it means to really be a propane guy, he doesn't deliver the gas, drive the transports, or set up the holding tanks all over Texas.
   The red head will be taking pictures for me today so that more items can be sold on Ebay, she says that the pictures are the contract between you and the buyer. I have a very efficient legal agent. These are some of the little things she does not make me not want to work today. She makes doing nothing the most desirable thing in the world...my memories of her include images of the naked photo shoot Marilyn Monroe did before she died...except I could touch her, and she made lasagna. I really don't want to work today.
   She makes being a truck driver painful, that every mile between means just as many that I have to travel back to reach a hot meal, quiet house, and a very relaxing bed. We truck drivers don't have many luxuries in life that happen on a daily basis, we have to wait until we are allowed to stop moving long enough to make the time to enjoy them. We crash a lot, as in we work until we can't go any more then we crash from the shear exhaustion and don't get to use or see much of the humanity around us, thus we are a little socially malnourished. Last night I crashed into bed, so tired and dead asleep, that I never heard my red head get out of the shower and come to bed looking like Marilyn Monroe from that photo shoot. This is just one of the many ways I feel as if death is winning and life lost a point in this game.
   Later we will talk antiques, shipping, billing fees, bubble wrap, and the cost of packaging peanuts, then how my hands hurt and that my shoulder is acting up. She will make me an ice wrap and massage a few of the hurt areas with her elbows, then put me to bed. If I don't start snoring within the first two minutes, she will run her nails over my skin and melt me like butter....this is when I am no longer a truck driver and do not have the mental capacity to decide anything. I am going to die now in the arms of a red head. Don't try and stop me....she made barbecue chicken.