There are only two ways of telling the complete truth--anonymously and posthumously.
Thomas Sowell
We're faltering, and ultimately failing. We're trying to save our home, but renegotiation is not going well. Neither is refinancing. Countrywide has screwed us over, and now, we're scrambling, trying to find a way to undo the damage, or to limit what damage has been done.
So, consequently, I've been left feeling as though I've failed my wife and kids, not to mention the disaster I've created financially for everyone else. Just when I think things can't get worse, new bills come in, or I discover that Peggy's been keeping information from me, or worse, that I simply haven't been paying attention when she's been trying to tell me something.
I was talking about some of this with Art, another driver, while we were waiting for our loads from a lumber mill in Hood River, OR, and trying to figure a way out between the two of us which didn't involve bankruptcy or anything illegal. For some reason, the tale turned a bit. I mentioned to him a younger driver that I'd encountered a while ago at a truck stop in Rice Hill, OR.
It seems the young kid was bragging about how much he knew about driving, and just how good a driver he was. Personally, I just let kids like this run off at the mouth, but in some cases, these kids seem to think you're endorsing their crap. I'm not, of course, but they just start running and can't seem to shut themselves off.
Another driver was listening as the kid was going on about this trials and tribulations driving the I-5 corridor, something most of the men and women there in the truck stop had done at least a dozen times themselves. It was an older guy, a skinny black driver who nodded and asked the kid, "So, how much trouble they give you at the Sutherlin scales on your run north?"
I was about to say something, when the older guy held up a hand. It was as good a time as any to shut up.
We got an earful, of course. Seems those rotten bears dragged him into the shed, checked his paperwork, redlined his truck some time ago, and he'd never heard the end of it. Those mean bears were nasty to him, making sure he knew what a gutter bum he was, and letting him know that if they'd had their way, he'd have lost his license right then.
The older guy nodded, and a moment later said, "You know, son, I might have felt sorry for you, except you're so full of shit...."
This irked the younger guy. "I'll have you know I have at least a million miles...!"
"Bet they're all local," the older guy shot back, much to the amusement of everyone around the fuel desk.
"See," the old guy continued, "if you'd been paying attention, you'd have noticed that the northbound scales on I-5, they're near the Boomer Hill exit. It takes a trip or two before you figure that out, but there they are. The Sutherlin Scales are on the southbound side, and while the sign on the chicken coop says they're the Sutherlin Scales, they're actually a few miles out of town. Plus, they haven't been open on any kind of a regular basis in a while, since Oregon is trying to figure out if they're going to move the scales, refurbish them, or close them altogether.
"Boomer Hill has no shed. If you were looking for a shed, you would have found that at the Ashland Scales, at the Port of Entry. You don't often see anyone pulled in, but that's where they are. Ditto at Woodburn on the southbound side, and Klamath Falls on Northbound 97. If you'd spent the kind of time on the road that you claim you have, you'd have known that.
"As far as the bears, I can't help you there. Most of us know that when it comes to dealing with them, you give them what they ask for when they ask for it. If you keep your mouth shut and listen, they're generally some of the most professional officers you'll ever deal with. If they were wanting to pull your license, it makes me wonder just what the hell you were saying to them. If you shot your mouth off, I don't wonder that they were going to shut you down. Stupid people shouldn't drive.
"Yeah, son. I'm calling bullshit. The worst mistake you can make is to try and BS your way through. Ain't no one can help you at that point."
By now, everyone was laughing at the newb, which isn't the response he was looking for. Then again, maybe if he'd been telling the truth, he'd have gotten a better response.
Art nodded at the end of my tale, and told me some of his own. It's not my tale to tell, but the reality is it dovetailed in with my own. He told me, "I don't care who you are, we all make mistakes. The man who tells you he hasn't made one is a liar. Period.
"You lying to the mortgage company?"
"No," I told him. "I'd be in worse trouble than I am now," I answered.
"Good answer," he said. "You'll get through it. It just takes time."
"I'm just driving the truck, Art," I said.
"All you can do. You can worry about it when you take your ten off. Other than that, you need to keep your head on the road."
I don't have any easy answers right now. We're trying our best for the time being. If things hold together for a couple of more months, I have a shot at this. I can only be honest with people as I work with them, and try to do what's right.
I could only wish that Countrywide and its agents had done so with me.
