What Happens In Bama Makes You Want To Move To Texas

Boss: I'm so glad I have a driver like you.

Me: Thanks, Boss. What made you say that?

Boss: You don't screw things up.

Me: Isn't that what we're SUPPOSED to do.

Boss: You know how drivers are...

Me: I don't know but tell me, please.

Boss: [SILENT]

Me: Boss, have you considered what it would be like if I wasn't around?

Boss: Oh, come on!!! You'll never leave here.

Me: We'll see about that. [WINK]

   This was a conversation I had with my boss in 2013.  By this point I had spent almost 3 years with a local outfit in Huntsville, AL.  I wasn't just driving.  I was spending one day a week in the office helping with regulatory and office-related functions such as truck maintenance records, driver daily logs, recovering load paperwork and training.  The Big Fuzzy Roadman was the go-to guy for all your latest trucking and fuel hauling knowledge.  This was as lovely as watching a funeral procession slowly pass through town.

Friend: Hey! What's up?

Me: Not much. You?

Friend: I was wondering if you could help me out?

Me: [ROLLS EYES] How much is this going to cost me?

   This conversation usually happened when a broke friend needed money. One in particular made it look like I was his personal ATM until I cut him off.  Nobody ever seemed to have the means to pay their bills much less pay me back. Often times I would 'gift' them the money. I knew many of them couldn't pay me back.  The most disappointing thing was their lack of effort.

Female: My boyfriend treats me like crap.

Me: We've had this conversation before.  If it's that bad why don't you leave him?

Female: I don't know.  I love him and all but every time I think he has to go I think that I am going to be lonely and my kids will miss him and my bed will be empty and I can't pay my own bills without him.

Me: I guess you love him enough for him to pull his crap on you.

     This was a normal conversation with female friends.  What makes it worse is that most of these women wouldn't know a good guy if they met one.  Nice guys weren't a wanted commodity.  They were talked about like they were but the buttholes always made their way to first place.  I was used to this.  Maybe it was time to look for another pool of available, intelligent women wanting to actually be in a real relationship with a real man willing to treat them like a lady.  It wore on me to see codependent women keep on being codependent.  They must have liked it, I guess.

Engineer: Hey there, Mr. Gas Hauler!  How does it feel to drive around a bomb?

Me: I noticed you work for NASA.  How does it feel to work for a government department that is having funding cut?  Too bad the current administration doesn't support you dream of being an astronaut.

   Engineers always seemed to have the upper hand in North Alabama.  Huntsville has the most PhD's per capita that any other major city in Alabama. They made more money and changed the face of the city. For as much as they broadened the city's demographic, they often looked down on others as if they were royalty.  It makes me glad I dropped out of school and didn't become one myself.

Family Member: Hey!!! Long time no see!

Me: I cant remember when I last saw you.

Family:  Well, if you'd stick around longer people might actually get to know you.  Heck, if you'd come to church and watch a football game with us we'd like you more.  Too bad you prefer to ride the highways like a gypsy.

Me: Well, I'm too busy living my own life to let anyone else own it.

     The problem with many of my extended family members is that they were way too self-absorbed for my liking.  If you didn't like the same things as they did or go to the same church then you didn't fit in. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't follow conversations on family gossip.  They let their imaginations run wild when I left out details of my life such as the real reason I became a truck driver, making money and taking care of a home.

Alabama Football Fan: Hey! ROLL TIDE!!!

Me: [SIGHS IN DISGUST]

     I know how many Bama Football fans there are.  They are everywhere.  They were their colors, crimson and white.  They shout their war call, ROLL TIDE!  They are arrogant. They are disgusting.  And they worship a dead football coach.  As many of them are awaiting the second coming of Jesus, they also await the day, during the Iron Bowl, that the great Paul W. 'Bear' Bryant will descend from heaven and take over coaching duties as only he could.  Bama fans everywhere will kneel as the Bear will charge one more time to defeat Auburn and put them down never to be seen again.

     I know that some you still live in Sweet Home Alabama and I do miss some things but I no longer experience the same nonsense that brings me down anymore.  To my Bama friends, best of luck.

The Hardest Part of Living With Someone

Dad died in 2009.  If you knew him you'd never forget him.  He had no problem meeting a stranger and no one would stay a stranger for long.  He flirted with the ladies, much to Mom's disdain.  Dad left a positive impression on everyone he met.  He worked hard and played even harder.  Dad once said he wanted to retire to a place where beautiful women were waiting on him hand and foot all the time.  You got to hand it to him, there were some beautiful nurses in the nursing home where he spent the last three years of his life.

Mom died in 2013. She spent much of her time isolated and never went out much as my little brother and I were growing up.  She couldn't drive and hated public transportation.  Her biggest ambition in life was to get a disability check. She hardly had any friends and of those friends, she had she milked those friendships to death and ultimately ran all of her friends off.  Her last three years on this planet were in what she called a hellhole, a nursing home in Lexington, TN, where the staff went out of their way to treat her like a human being instead of another patient waiting to die in those halls.

Comparatively speaking Dad and Mom were like oil and water.  As I grew older I failed to see what he saw in her.  Mom was very, very demanding.  Even though Dad drove for a living he also drove as Mom's personal chauffeur. Mom couldn't do anything on her own and always cited Dad as the reason she couldn't.  Dad, on the other hand, never questioned anything and always faithfully executed his duties without fail, that is until he could not drive anymore.

Dad never complained though.  Mom complained all the time.

Once I was talking with Dad while he was in the nursing home.  He started to look better.  Mom noticed and asked me if I would have a word with him about going home because, of course, she sure did miss having him around.

As I approached Dad with this a stern look of disgust landed on his face as he told me emphatically, 'No! I don't want to go home!'  

'Ok, Pop. I can respect that but can you tell me why?'

'Your momma will drive me crazy!'

So the truth comes out.  Dad not only get his beautiful women but he also managed his escape from his crazy life with Mom.  

Way to go, Dad!

By the way, I still miss you.

Howard Berryman, Sr. 1936-2009