First introduced in "Starry skies" when, while I was writing that post, so many memories just came flooding back that I decided another post or two focusing on that subject alone would be fun. Here are some more of my experiences. Hope you enjoy reading about them!
There were so many 'handles' out there. I think (not sure) I had only three -- well, maybe four. I might have started out with "Roadrunner", but discovered that there were a gazillion other 'roadrunners'.
I quickly changed to "Schoolteacher". Then, for a very brief period of time -- while in the process of obtaining my first divorce -- I used the handle "Fancy Free". It didn't take me long to discard that one! Not only was it in bad taste, but I found it much too suggestive. I went back to 'Schoolteacher'.
The "Artful Dodger" came along, of course, after I went into the art business. It was usually shortened over the airwaves to "Dodger", and I've had no reason to change it since. It's a good handle, and one that could be interpreted in many different ways. Certainly a good discussion-provoker.
The following stories have been encapsulated, title-wise, into one or two words ... and, they are in no particular order either alphabetically or in preference, just as my mind recalls and my fingers skip over the keys.
... ... "Wild Man" ... ...
I was traveling east on I-10 towards Mobile, AL -- what CB-ers called the 'hole in the wall', the reference being the tunnel dug under the Mobile River -- with Wild Man. He had my 'back door', and it had been that way for many miles.
All of a sudden, in an attempt to light a cigarette, I was appalled to notice my car's cigarette lighter 'spiraling' (I kid you not, it was turning into liquid right before my eyes!!) out of the dashboard.
I screamed this information to Wild Man, who immediately said, "Pull over and get out of the car!" I did.
Within a half minute, this humongous rig had pulled up right behind me. Out of the cab jumped a fellow (Wild Man, of course) wearing an asbestos glove that looked like it went all the way up to his eyeballs!
He reached into my car, grabbed the offending object, and gave it a mighty heave right out into the Gulf of Mexico. (A slight exaggeration here, OK? The Gulf was probably a few miles away. However, it is accurate to say that he gave it a 'mighty heave'!)
It's really unusual when you actually get to "catch an eyeball on" (in other words, meet face to face) the person or persons with whom you have been traveling or talking.
... ... (bulbous nose) ... ...
I am truly ashamed to say that I do not remember this person's handle, and he was such a nice man, too! Just terrible of me!!
Darling Daughter (DD) and I were traveling back to New Orleans from Houston on I-10. I was driving. There was an almost constant clamor from her to talk on the radio. (She was really wanting to practice her newly-acquired 'Nwahlins' accent.)
I didn't let her do it. I was much too concerned with the weather. It was AWful! The wind was coming directly out of the north at a pretty good clip, and we were being blown all over the road in our little car!! (Not to mention the fact that it was raining heavily.)
Then, 'nice man' (I just can't bring myself to refer to his nose again, I'm sorry. While true, I wish I had some other way of telling you who was talking.) said over the radideo, "We're going to put you in the 'rocking chair'. Don't be scared, OK?"
The next thing that happened was there was an 18-wheeler in front of me, an 18-wheeler directly to the left (north) of me, and yet one more 18-wheeler behind me. I mean, DD and I could have had a picnic out there, we were so shielded!
(By the way, the term 'rocking chair', in CB lingo, could mean a couple or three things. ALWAYS, it means that you are neither in the front nor are you in the back. In this particular instance, we not only were not in the front or the back, but we were completely protected from the side! [Heavens to Betsy!!])
We continued on in our 'cocoon', as it were, for some miles. Then, nice man said that he and his fellow travelers were going to be stopping in Baton Rouge for some coffee and a bite to eat. Did we want to join them? (They really were not interested in continuing on east until they'd had a chance to stop and rest for just a bit.)
We joined them. (That's how I know what he looked like.) I have since questioned DD about this incident, but she doesn't remember it.
All was NOT always "peaches and cream".
Every once in a while, I found myself in a rocking chair situation with fellow travelers when someone traveling the other direction would take it upon himself to try and cast aspersions towards my sex, my traveling companions, the reason/s for my being on the road in the first place ... well, you get the picture, I'm sure.
Normally, we just ignored the unwelcome stranger's comments, as it would soon become apparent that he was going the other direction. We were quite willing to see/hear him go!
This one time, tho, I was traveling west (along with three or four others), on my way back 'home to the Dome'. We were still in Louisiana at the time. We could hear -- and had heard, over a period of several miles -- a VERY loud voice coming over our radios (and, indeed, even drowning out some of our conversations!).
I shut my mouth. (Hard for me, you know?) Everyone else in our convoy tried to get him to shut his! But no, he would not be silenced. Perhaps every obscenity known to man at that time escaped his mouth.
I waited, trying to hide. (How the devil do you hide a small 4-wheeler amongst the big rigs? You can't, of course!)
He 'blew by me'. I got his license plate number. Then, I blew by him, beating him to the mandatory weigh station at the Louisiana/Texas border and watched as the state police yanked his radio. THAT was sweet!!!
I can hardly believe I'm saying this, but I am. ... ... ... More later.