A CHOIR OF FAT LADIES ARE SINGING...
Portsmouth, NH. (Jan. 8, 2008. TBC Exclusive) Having presented every possible crafted, scripted, focus-group tested incarnation of herself, Hillary Clinton played her one remaining card here yesterday: that of the picked on, misunderstood, woman being disrespected by men. This was perhaps the least believable of all the myriad unbelievable personas she and her operatives have dreamt up and used thus far.
The steely, experienced, tough political activist who had fought the republican smear machine for 16 years did not work too well. Equally ineffective was the battle hardened legislator, the long time champion of women’s and children’s rights, the advocate activist for the downtrodden. Certainly her stint as the inevitable commander-in-chief-in-waiting, ready to hit the ground running as soon as rolled up her sleeves and slammed the Oval Office door shut, has not played well at all. For a brief time, as the political scene in Iowa began to shift, she dragged her old mother out on the campaign trail with her, had a few old, close, girl friends tag along, with daughter Chelsea by her side. This transparent effort to show her “softer side” was as phony as her alleged lifelong allegiance to the New York Yankees.
Yes indeed. Now that the going has gotten rough, that her once formidable juggernaut of a political machine has shown the telltale signs of over use and antiquation, the once ballsy attorney from the infamous Rose Law Firm, the shrewd cattle futures player who parlayed a meager investment into a cool hundred thousand in short order, this chameleon, has tried the sympathy shtick.
While taking questions from some nice women at a diner counter here, her eyes welled up and, her voice, softened with sincerity, stress and weariness, quavered a bit as she rested her noble chin in the palm of her left hand explaining, from the depths of her heart, how “tough” it has all been. It was a poor imitation of a B-grade movie performance at best, yet another scripted tactic that did not work, at worst. Hillary Clinton may be many things but the weepy, worn out, battered and bruised crusader is not one of them. Not by a long shot.
Not even the most talented politician in the history of politics, her husband, former President William Jefferson Clinton and all his oratory skills seems able to help his wife as the fickle carpet of electoral reality is being pulled, first by Iowans, now by New Hampshirites, from beneath her sensible pumps.
The pants-suited warrior acting as if her destiny was just months from being fulfilled is now instead going to pay for her past. All the maneuvering, memory losses, lost records, White House charades, cover-ups, slip-ups and Vince Foster-like mysteries are coming home to roost. The Illinois native, former Arkansas and United States First Lady, who carpetbagged her way into a Senate seat for the State of New York, may finally be glimpsing the stark end of her long and winding road.
Oh, the humanity! The brutality that she may actually be denied what she has so long sought, so fervently believed to be hers. Adding insult to injury, her political lard ass may be kicked by a freshman Senator, an up-start possessed by not just the “Audacity of Hope” by also the audacity to challenge her.
If the entry and exit polls are to believed, she may not have to travel to South Carolina right away. She may have to stage a fund raiser or two merely to prolong the agony of the "new inevitable" in Hillary-world: defeat. The only saps that may still believe in this charlatan are those coursing through the multitude of maple trees here.
Shrillary Clinton. Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow.
Farley Marsden, New Hampshire Correspondent for TBC
Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Monday, January 7, 2008
A WEEKEND OF MASS DEBATING
JUST WHAT WE NEEDED
At Least there Were Fewer Debaters
Keene, NH (Jan.,2008. TBC) With a scant 120 hours between the results of the Iowa Caucuses and the New Hampshire Primary, the presidential candidates from both parties spent the weekend in a rush of frenzied activity. Aside from various and sundry town hall meetings, public events, TV appearances and interviews, Saturday night, both the democratic and republican candidates participated in separate back-to-back debates sponsored by ABC News and Facebook.
The candidates also made obligatory appearances on the numerous Sunday morning talk shows while the GOP contenders had yet another debate, billed as a Forum, sponsored by Fox News Sunday evening.
The one saving grace to this schedule was the fact that there were fewer candidates spewing out the same old hot air, bilge, lies, nonsense and political gibberish. The remaining candidates were at least permitted a certain amount of time to express ideas, opinions and to confront one another when prodded. The toll of all this mass debating is beginning to show on some of the candidates, most notably, democratic New York Senator, Hillary Clinton. She appeared shrill, angry, arrogant and otherwise churlish on Saturday night. GOP contender MItt Romney managed to perform his most effective imitation of Mrs. Clinton during the Forum on Sunday evening.
In a sense, it was somewhat refreshing to see the field of candidates reduced, but those remaining did little to distinguish themselves from their standard stump speeches, campaign rhetoric as they pitifully clung to their “message” at every opportunity. By now these scripted, robotic somewhat idiotic sound bites are more insult than annoyance.
The democratic debate Saturday was the typical display of those running. John Edwards was apoplexily on the attack against whatever it is that has him so pissed off. Bill Richardson continued to find new and novel ways to demonstrate his ignorance, irrelevance and overall ineptness. Hillary managed to be defensive, hostile, coy and her usual lying self with little effort. Barak Obama, fresh off his victory in Iowa, seemed more at ease with himself and the format. He spoke well when he needed to and made no obvious blunders. His colleagues managed to do that.
Sunday evening the republicans, sitting shoulder to shoulder, cheek to jowl, managed to keep their voices at conversational tones and overall, behave cordially. Romney, in one exchange with Iowa winner, Mike Huckabee seemed childishly exasperated. He looked like the little rich spoiled brat not getting his way. The facial expressions alone illustrated a side to Mitt that was telling: this man simply lacks the temperament, poise and self discipline to be the president. Added to his other liabilities, New Hampshire should be the end of the road for this millionaire. It would be convenient since, he would not be far from his palatial mansion in Belmont, Massachusetts and could be home the next day in time for tea and a massage.
Fred Thompson made several clumsy attempts at glibness and humor tonight, all of which fell. Apparently the Geritol enemas, B-12 shots, Head-On and Mountain Dew are just not working anymore.
Former NYC Mayor Rudy Guiliani had an acceptable performance although Chris Wallace, the moderator, spent an inordinate amount of time trying to goad Mike Huckabee and John McCain into confrontations with Romney. McCain repeated his usual swill while Huckabee managed to resemble Jim Nabors at a city council meeting more than ever. When Rudy had an opportunity to speak, he was poised, confident and spoke in simple, understandable terms. Thompson chose to use his microphone time to discuss the arcane complexities of Social Security and certainly looked as if he’d be better off at home collecting it.
At least the voters here will actually be able to vote as opposed to the asinine, antiquated caucus process of Iowa. New Hampshire will be a true winnowing ground whereas Iowa simply removed the most obvious “no chance in hell” egotistical wannabes hoping for a cabinet post or some other handout when all is said and done in November.
Farley Marsden, New Hampshire Correspondent for TBC
Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved
At Least there Were Fewer Debaters
Keene, NH (Jan.,2008. TBC) With a scant 120 hours between the results of the Iowa Caucuses and the New Hampshire Primary, the presidential candidates from both parties spent the weekend in a rush of frenzied activity. Aside from various and sundry town hall meetings, public events, TV appearances and interviews, Saturday night, both the democratic and republican candidates participated in separate back-to-back debates sponsored by ABC News and Facebook.
The candidates also made obligatory appearances on the numerous Sunday morning talk shows while the GOP contenders had yet another debate, billed as a Forum, sponsored by Fox News Sunday evening.
The one saving grace to this schedule was the fact that there were fewer candidates spewing out the same old hot air, bilge, lies, nonsense and political gibberish. The remaining candidates were at least permitted a certain amount of time to express ideas, opinions and to confront one another when prodded. The toll of all this mass debating is beginning to show on some of the candidates, most notably, democratic New York Senator, Hillary Clinton. She appeared shrill, angry, arrogant and otherwise churlish on Saturday night. GOP contender MItt Romney managed to perform his most effective imitation of Mrs. Clinton during the Forum on Sunday evening.
In a sense, it was somewhat refreshing to see the field of candidates reduced, but those remaining did little to distinguish themselves from their standard stump speeches, campaign rhetoric as they pitifully clung to their “message” at every opportunity. By now these scripted, robotic somewhat idiotic sound bites are more insult than annoyance.
The democratic debate Saturday was the typical display of those running. John Edwards was apoplexily on the attack against whatever it is that has him so pissed off. Bill Richardson continued to find new and novel ways to demonstrate his ignorance, irrelevance and overall ineptness. Hillary managed to be defensive, hostile, coy and her usual lying self with little effort. Barak Obama, fresh off his victory in Iowa, seemed more at ease with himself and the format. He spoke well when he needed to and made no obvious blunders. His colleagues managed to do that.
Sunday evening the republicans, sitting shoulder to shoulder, cheek to jowl, managed to keep their voices at conversational tones and overall, behave cordially. Romney, in one exchange with Iowa winner, Mike Huckabee seemed childishly exasperated. He looked like the little rich spoiled brat not getting his way. The facial expressions alone illustrated a side to Mitt that was telling: this man simply lacks the temperament, poise and self discipline to be the president. Added to his other liabilities, New Hampshire should be the end of the road for this millionaire. It would be convenient since, he would not be far from his palatial mansion in Belmont, Massachusetts and could be home the next day in time for tea and a massage.
Fred Thompson made several clumsy attempts at glibness and humor tonight, all of which fell. Apparently the Geritol enemas, B-12 shots, Head-On and Mountain Dew are just not working anymore.
Former NYC Mayor Rudy Guiliani had an acceptable performance although Chris Wallace, the moderator, spent an inordinate amount of time trying to goad Mike Huckabee and John McCain into confrontations with Romney. McCain repeated his usual swill while Huckabee managed to resemble Jim Nabors at a city council meeting more than ever. When Rudy had an opportunity to speak, he was poised, confident and spoke in simple, understandable terms. Thompson chose to use his microphone time to discuss the arcane complexities of Social Security and certainly looked as if he’d be better off at home collecting it.
At least the voters here will actually be able to vote as opposed to the asinine, antiquated caucus process of Iowa. New Hampshire will be a true winnowing ground whereas Iowa simply removed the most obvious “no chance in hell” egotistical wannabes hoping for a cabinet post or some other handout when all is said and done in November.
Farley Marsden, New Hampshire Correspondent for TBC
Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved
Friday, January 4, 2008
THANKS, MITT: THE FOOD WAS GREAT
HUCKABEE RIDES TO CAUCUS VICTORY
ON SHOULDERS OF HARD-CORE CHRISTIANS
Des Moines, Iowa (Jan. 3, 2008. TBC Special Report) Despite being out spent 20 to 1, former Arkansas Governor, Mike Huckabee won a resounding victory over Mitt Romney in the Iowa Caucuses. A long shot, dark horse candidate for much of last year, Huckabee found a groundswell of support in the last four weeks. Former Massachusetts Governor, Mitt Romney, who spent virtual the entire last twelve months and upwards of $16 million here in Iowa, had done his best to buy the results of the Caucuses. He came in at least 9 percentage points behind Huckabee and now heads into the New Hampshire Primary damaged, facing the increasingly popular John McCain.
The former Baptist Minister and staunch Christian Conservative Huckabee, was able to tap into the huge block of imbecilic Evangelical, pro-life, anti-reality, gun-toting voters populating this horribly irrelevant, backwards state. Despite the awful, embarrassing, shameful record of the incumbent, George W. Bush, these wing nuts once again came out in force to vote their narrow-minded, ultraconservative social agenda; an agenda almost virtually assured defeat in November 2008.
Exit polls conducted tonight showed Iowans to be very grateful for Mitt Romney’s sustained efforts to buy their votes. “Heck, he fed us, bused us around, paid our way into the Ames Straw Poll, The State Fair and the Manure Expo. I surely did appreciate him spending all that money but, if for one minute that Massachusetts Mormon thought we would actually vote for him, he was outta his mind”, commented retired hog castrater, Laris Z. Stutzman of Kalona.
Huckabee's resounding victory here tonight dramatically alters the primary season as it heads east. “We have no doubt that there are millions of people out there just as ignorant, stupid and primitive as the fine people of Iowa”, said a jubilant Huckabee at his campaign headquarters in West Des Moines.
Fred Thompson, found asleep under a table at the Arby’s in Fort Dodge, Iowa, finished a distant third. One of his advisors, speaking on the condition of anonymity said, “Once we give him a Geritol enema and a few Krispy Kremes, he’ll be good to go”.
Cletus D. Yoder, Iowa Correspondent, TBC
Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved
ON SHOULDERS OF HARD-CORE CHRISTIANS
Des Moines, Iowa (Jan. 3, 2008. TBC Special Report) Despite being out spent 20 to 1, former Arkansas Governor, Mike Huckabee won a resounding victory over Mitt Romney in the Iowa Caucuses. A long shot, dark horse candidate for much of last year, Huckabee found a groundswell of support in the last four weeks. Former Massachusetts Governor, Mitt Romney, who spent virtual the entire last twelve months and upwards of $16 million here in Iowa, had done his best to buy the results of the Caucuses. He came in at least 9 percentage points behind Huckabee and now heads into the New Hampshire Primary damaged, facing the increasingly popular John McCain.
The former Baptist Minister and staunch Christian Conservative Huckabee, was able to tap into the huge block of imbecilic Evangelical, pro-life, anti-reality, gun-toting voters populating this horribly irrelevant, backwards state. Despite the awful, embarrassing, shameful record of the incumbent, George W. Bush, these wing nuts once again came out in force to vote their narrow-minded, ultraconservative social agenda; an agenda almost virtually assured defeat in November 2008.
Exit polls conducted tonight showed Iowans to be very grateful for Mitt Romney’s sustained efforts to buy their votes. “Heck, he fed us, bused us around, paid our way into the Ames Straw Poll, The State Fair and the Manure Expo. I surely did appreciate him spending all that money but, if for one minute that Massachusetts Mormon thought we would actually vote for him, he was outta his mind”, commented retired hog castrater, Laris Z. Stutzman of Kalona.
Huckabee's resounding victory here tonight dramatically alters the primary season as it heads east. “We have no doubt that there are millions of people out there just as ignorant, stupid and primitive as the fine people of Iowa”, said a jubilant Huckabee at his campaign headquarters in West Des Moines.
Fred Thompson, found asleep under a table at the Arby’s in Fort Dodge, Iowa, finished a distant third. One of his advisors, speaking on the condition of anonymity said, “Once we give him a Geritol enema and a few Krispy Kremes, he’ll be good to go”.
Cletus D. Yoder, Iowa Correspondent, TBC
Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved
Thursday, January 3, 2008
THE FATE OF A NATION: IOWANS CAUCUS TONIGHT
GOD HELP US ALL
Elk Run Heights, Iowa (Jan. 3, 2008. TBC Special Report) The days are getting noticeably longer; the sun slips below the western horizon a bit later than it did just last Thursday. Each additional second before darkness descends over this frigid wasteland is but a brief reprieve from the inevitable: it will be below zero before long.
The thousands of visitors forced to be here representing numerous media outlets, journalists, pundits, commentators and politicos of every breed, are as eager to depart as a starving man is to finding a Big Mac. Soon it will all be over but, as of this writing, the fate of our nation, the Future of Western Civilization and Global Democracy, are in the calloused, pudgy hands of those Iowans preparing to venture out to their respective Caucus sites. It has been many years since so much emphasis has been bestowed upon this antiquated, obtuse process. Iowans in record numbers are expected to Caucus tonight, perhaps as high as 310,000 of them. The remaining 300 million Americans should sleep easily tonight,secure and confident that these bored, narrow-minded, government subsidized, midwestern gomps will help shape the race that will result in the election of our next president.
Arse Nuezil was warming up his brand new 2008 GMC King Cab Super Duty pickup truck outside his home. Every article of outwear Arse wore bore the logo of a seed, chemical or fertilizer company. “Well, i used to farm, son, but now I make a better living non-farming”, Nuezil commented a a reporter. When asked to elaborate, Arse, discharged a rib-shattering belch and said, “Let me educate you boys. You see, when I was farming I had to buy all sorts of stuff known as inputs; seed corn, seed beans, fertilizers, herbicides and the like. Then, I actually had to go out a till, plow, plant and harvest. That costs a heck of a lot for diesel fuel. Well, mother and I was eating at the Red Lobster over in Flatus, just north of Waterloo and we got to talking. We realized that we would make a darned good lot more money if we got paid for not farming. So, that’s what we do. the federal government pays me to not put a crop in the ground, to not raise cattle or hogs, to basically put all my acres in the Conservation program so dear, pheasant, coons and skunk have safe places to live. Hell...this not farming thing is the best. Ain’t never made so much when I was actually farming”, Nuezil said and walked away chuckling, burping and mumbling to himself.
Further down the ice-covered gravel road, one of Arse’s neighbors, Frank Schnackenhacker, was getting his mail from his roadside box. When asked if he was going to Caucus tonight he said, “You bet. Soon as I take this big old subsidy check to the bank, I’ll come home, shave, put on my best Dickies and go over to the United Lutheran Church there in Duck Bend, you know, just east of Hudson”. One reporter asked Frank who he was going to Caucus for and received the reply that “Well, I’m mainly going for the pork chops, sauerkraut and Mr. Pibb but, I suppose, I’m going to stand up for whoever will keep these farm subsidies rolling in. You bet, folks out there don’t know how hard it is to not farm. We need a Farm Bill and all the help we can get”.
Despite the frigid conditions, state election official are anticipating record turn out at caucus sites throughout this vast, largely empty state. Molly Raye Hoekstzyx, an election supervisor in Apponoose County said, “Everyone I know is just so excited. You bet we’re all going to caucus, wouldn’t miss it for the world. I heard that Martha Strock was fixin’ some of her rhubarb pie for us after we finish off them steaks Hemp Gurney was grillin’ up. I even saw that nice young colored fella runnin’ for something, Barracks Obaby or some such. He seems like a nice fella, sure enough a lot nicer than the other colored I met in my life. But, I will have to caucus for Huckabee. He seems as backwards, dimwitted, clueless and Christian as anyone out there”.
The free world awaits.
Cletus D. Yoder, Iowa Correspondent, TBC
Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved
Elk Run Heights, Iowa (Jan. 3, 2008. TBC Special Report) The days are getting noticeably longer; the sun slips below the western horizon a bit later than it did just last Thursday. Each additional second before darkness descends over this frigid wasteland is but a brief reprieve from the inevitable: it will be below zero before long.
The thousands of visitors forced to be here representing numerous media outlets, journalists, pundits, commentators and politicos of every breed, are as eager to depart as a starving man is to finding a Big Mac. Soon it will all be over but, as of this writing, the fate of our nation, the Future of Western Civilization and Global Democracy, are in the calloused, pudgy hands of those Iowans preparing to venture out to their respective Caucus sites. It has been many years since so much emphasis has been bestowed upon this antiquated, obtuse process. Iowans in record numbers are expected to Caucus tonight, perhaps as high as 310,000 of them. The remaining 300 million Americans should sleep easily tonight,secure and confident that these bored, narrow-minded, government subsidized, midwestern gomps will help shape the race that will result in the election of our next president.
Arse Nuezil was warming up his brand new 2008 GMC King Cab Super Duty pickup truck outside his home. Every article of outwear Arse wore bore the logo of a seed, chemical or fertilizer company. “Well, i used to farm, son, but now I make a better living non-farming”, Nuezil commented a a reporter. When asked to elaborate, Arse, discharged a rib-shattering belch and said, “Let me educate you boys. You see, when I was farming I had to buy all sorts of stuff known as inputs; seed corn, seed beans, fertilizers, herbicides and the like. Then, I actually had to go out a till, plow, plant and harvest. That costs a heck of a lot for diesel fuel. Well, mother and I was eating at the Red Lobster over in Flatus, just north of Waterloo and we got to talking. We realized that we would make a darned good lot more money if we got paid for not farming. So, that’s what we do. the federal government pays me to not put a crop in the ground, to not raise cattle or hogs, to basically put all my acres in the Conservation program so dear, pheasant, coons and skunk have safe places to live. Hell...this not farming thing is the best. Ain’t never made so much when I was actually farming”, Nuezil said and walked away chuckling, burping and mumbling to himself.
Further down the ice-covered gravel road, one of Arse’s neighbors, Frank Schnackenhacker, was getting his mail from his roadside box. When asked if he was going to Caucus tonight he said, “You bet. Soon as I take this big old subsidy check to the bank, I’ll come home, shave, put on my best Dickies and go over to the United Lutheran Church there in Duck Bend, you know, just east of Hudson”. One reporter asked Frank who he was going to Caucus for and received the reply that “Well, I’m mainly going for the pork chops, sauerkraut and Mr. Pibb but, I suppose, I’m going to stand up for whoever will keep these farm subsidies rolling in. You bet, folks out there don’t know how hard it is to not farm. We need a Farm Bill and all the help we can get”.
Despite the frigid conditions, state election official are anticipating record turn out at caucus sites throughout this vast, largely empty state. Molly Raye Hoekstzyx, an election supervisor in Apponoose County said, “Everyone I know is just so excited. You bet we’re all going to caucus, wouldn’t miss it for the world. I heard that Martha Strock was fixin’ some of her rhubarb pie for us after we finish off them steaks Hemp Gurney was grillin’ up. I even saw that nice young colored fella runnin’ for something, Barracks Obaby or some such. He seems like a nice fella, sure enough a lot nicer than the other colored I met in my life. But, I will have to caucus for Huckabee. He seems as backwards, dimwitted, clueless and Christian as anyone out there”.
The free world awaits.
Cletus D. Yoder, Iowa Correspondent, TBC
Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
WHERE HAVE ALL THE HEROES GONE
Joplin, Mo (Jan. 1, 2008 TBC Exclusive) His huge lardass was spilling off the sides of the stool as he sat at the counter wearing two dollar, ill-fitting sweat pants and an Army-T shirt riddle with holes. He was not fat, he was grossly obese. He made his 15th trip to the buffet and smiled at the waitress revealing his one his remaining tooth.
He let go a belch that shook the windows in the Petro and began to speak. He did not offer his name but he did illuminate all of us about the sordid, awful side of war, military life, dark ops, trucking and the situation in Iraq. He was Henry Kissinger, Howard Baker, Jethro Bodine, Junior Samples and John Rambo all rolled in to one.
He had stopped for a shower because it was the first of the year. He waddled in to the buffet, an unremarkable, rotund, wide load of a driver but little did anyone know he had been a military icon.
After his 19th cup of coffee he began to speak. In a voice that sounded like tree bark going through a dull bladed buzz saw, he took a hearty drag on his Camel. He spoke softly, but with an unmistakable venom in his voice. He had been an Army Ranger, Navy Seal, Re-Con Marine, CIA Sniper, Black-Ops Specialist, Air Force U-2 Pilot and Apollo 13 alternate. He was the proud owner of 14 Purple Hearts, six Bronze Stars, two Congressional Medals of Honor, one Presidential Freedom Medal,a Pulitzer Prize,and an Oscar. He owned an autographed photo of Richard Nixon in the lobby of the Watergate Hotel, and is the proud holder of a CDL with Tanker, Doubles, Triples and HazMat Endorsements.
To look at him today it would be hard to imagine Donald Rumsfeld tracking him down on September 12, 2001. But, that is exactly what happened. After dropping his loaded flatbed trailer on the scale in Banning, California, he bobtailed to 29 Palms Marine Air Wing Base. His Petro buffet not yet digested he found himself on a Lear Jet without markings, heading into the eye of the storm. He wanted to phone mother but, security issues prevented that. Rumsfeld had assured him that he would visit with his wife and explain the profound importance of her truck driving husbands mission.
On the long flight to Af-Kur-Uzbeck-and-every-other-Stan, he reminisced about his exploits in Cambodia, Thailand, Viet Nam, Korea, Laos, Havana and Turnberry, Scotland. The men on board with him where younger, but, none had seen the action and horror as Mr. Truck Dryvah.
In the best of conditions a man must jump from a plane, all bets are off. As Mr. Truck Dryvah strapped on his parachute he knew there was no turning back. He Halo jumped from 44,000 feet laden with 85 pounds of gear. 34 seconds later he was in Taliban country. Now, the fight was on. Hello, come-in.
As he stealthily made his way towards Tora Bora he thought of his friend Dominick Avallini, back in New York City, an NYPD Captain who lost many colleagues on that tragic day. Mr. Truck Dryvah came to know Captain Avallini while he was volunteering as an NYPD Auxiliary Police Officer, an FDNY Rescue Specialist and a NYC Cab Driver.
For the next two weeks, living on nothing but camel piss, c-rations and goat dung, he tracked his quarry to the darkest, deepest recesses of Tora Bora. He had Osama Bin Laden squarely in his cross hairs. His trigger finger twitched, as sweat rolled off his third chin onto his Dale Earnhart T-shirt, when suddenly his communication linkup with CIA in McClean, Virginia buzzed in his ear. He was fixated on his target, he was looking at the man who had inflicted such harm to his beloved country. He sought justice, perhaps vengeance. The buzzing in his ear became such a annoyance that he was compelled to respond. He keyed the mic implanted in his wrist and heard the unmistakable voice of George Tenet. Mr. Truck Dryvah is a patriot and devoted military man to his core; he keyed up and said “ Hello, Come-in”. Tenet was conflicted. The words he transmitted from 20,000 miles away made Mr. Truck Dryvah cringe. “Chicken House closed. Repeat, Chicken House closed. Abort. Abort. Return to truck stop ASAP”.
This story may seem far-fetched, however, it has been told at lunch counters, driver only booths and CB Channel 19 many, many times by many,many drivers. The only differences in each recounting are the number of teeth, chins, sweat pants and which Apollo Mission they were assigned to. If it were not for the fact that war was raging in Viet Nam, the first words broadcast from the moon would have been, “ Hey earthbound , what you leave behind you? Hello, come-in, how's about local information, come-on”.
The current problems in Iraq could have ended years ago if only certain truck drivers had told their dispatchers that the “Load has to wait, I’m out of hours, I got business elsewhere. Hello, come-in”.
Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved
He let go a belch that shook the windows in the Petro and began to speak. He did not offer his name but he did illuminate all of us about the sordid, awful side of war, military life, dark ops, trucking and the situation in Iraq. He was Henry Kissinger, Howard Baker, Jethro Bodine, Junior Samples and John Rambo all rolled in to one.
He had stopped for a shower because it was the first of the year. He waddled in to the buffet, an unremarkable, rotund, wide load of a driver but little did anyone know he had been a military icon.
After his 19th cup of coffee he began to speak. In a voice that sounded like tree bark going through a dull bladed buzz saw, he took a hearty drag on his Camel. He spoke softly, but with an unmistakable venom in his voice. He had been an Army Ranger, Navy Seal, Re-Con Marine, CIA Sniper, Black-Ops Specialist, Air Force U-2 Pilot and Apollo 13 alternate. He was the proud owner of 14 Purple Hearts, six Bronze Stars, two Congressional Medals of Honor, one Presidential Freedom Medal,a Pulitzer Prize,and an Oscar. He owned an autographed photo of Richard Nixon in the lobby of the Watergate Hotel, and is the proud holder of a CDL with Tanker, Doubles, Triples and HazMat Endorsements.
To look at him today it would be hard to imagine Donald Rumsfeld tracking him down on September 12, 2001. But, that is exactly what happened. After dropping his loaded flatbed trailer on the scale in Banning, California, he bobtailed to 29 Palms Marine Air Wing Base. His Petro buffet not yet digested he found himself on a Lear Jet without markings, heading into the eye of the storm. He wanted to phone mother but, security issues prevented that. Rumsfeld had assured him that he would visit with his wife and explain the profound importance of her truck driving husbands mission.
On the long flight to Af-Kur-Uzbeck-and-every-other-Stan, he reminisced about his exploits in Cambodia, Thailand, Viet Nam, Korea, Laos, Havana and Turnberry, Scotland. The men on board with him where younger, but, none had seen the action and horror as Mr. Truck Dryvah.
In the best of conditions a man must jump from a plane, all bets are off. As Mr. Truck Dryvah strapped on his parachute he knew there was no turning back. He Halo jumped from 44,000 feet laden with 85 pounds of gear. 34 seconds later he was in Taliban country. Now, the fight was on. Hello, come-in.
As he stealthily made his way towards Tora Bora he thought of his friend Dominick Avallini, back in New York City, an NYPD Captain who lost many colleagues on that tragic day. Mr. Truck Dryvah came to know Captain Avallini while he was volunteering as an NYPD Auxiliary Police Officer, an FDNY Rescue Specialist and a NYC Cab Driver.
For the next two weeks, living on nothing but camel piss, c-rations and goat dung, he tracked his quarry to the darkest, deepest recesses of Tora Bora. He had Osama Bin Laden squarely in his cross hairs. His trigger finger twitched, as sweat rolled off his third chin onto his Dale Earnhart T-shirt, when suddenly his communication linkup with CIA in McClean, Virginia buzzed in his ear. He was fixated on his target, he was looking at the man who had inflicted such harm to his beloved country. He sought justice, perhaps vengeance. The buzzing in his ear became such a annoyance that he was compelled to respond. He keyed the mic implanted in his wrist and heard the unmistakable voice of George Tenet. Mr. Truck Dryvah is a patriot and devoted military man to his core; he keyed up and said “ Hello, Come-in”. Tenet was conflicted. The words he transmitted from 20,000 miles away made Mr. Truck Dryvah cringe. “Chicken House closed. Repeat, Chicken House closed. Abort. Abort. Return to truck stop ASAP”.
This story may seem far-fetched, however, it has been told at lunch counters, driver only booths and CB Channel 19 many, many times by many,many drivers. The only differences in each recounting are the number of teeth, chins, sweat pants and which Apollo Mission they were assigned to. If it were not for the fact that war was raging in Viet Nam, the first words broadcast from the moon would have been, “ Hey earthbound , what you leave behind you? Hello, come-in, how's about local information, come-on”.
The current problems in Iraq could have ended years ago if only certain truck drivers had told their dispatchers that the “Load has to wait, I’m out of hours, I got business elsewhere. Hello, come-in”.
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