Great Lakes Truck Driving School, in Columbia Station, Ohio, is hosting a job fair on Thursday, August 1st, 2013 from 3:00 pm to 6:00 pm. Over 50 companies will be in attendance to fill an immediate need for truck drivers, equipment operators, and oil and gas workers. Companies attending the job fair will be seeking experienced workers as well as assisting those who are looking to begin a new career.
Job fair guests can register to win a free Class A CDL Course, the value of which is over $5,000. The winner will be selected by Great Lakes Truck Driving School during the event. The event will also feature door prizes, raffles, and information about training opportunities.
Government representatives will be making an appearance including a representative from Governor Kasich’s office, Congressman Bob Gibbs’ office, and Ohio State Senator Gayle Manning.Job seekers are encouraged to bring a resume and be prepared to fill out applications. The job fair is open the public, free to attend, and there is no need to register in advance. It will be held at 27740 Royalton Road (Rt 82) in Columbia Station, Ohio. For more information call (866) 932-3436 or visit www.greatlakestds.com.
We are an elite group. You don't want to be one of us. Fitting in is not a compliment, it is a curse. Our parents not only paid the cost for the endurance of freedom, but they passed it on for us to endure as well. We are the hidden mass that no one, including our government, wants to mention or listen to.
We are the children of Agent Orange!
Many thought Agent Orange issues would disappear once the Vietnam Vets passed, which they are doing more rapidly than any other group of war veterans in the history of our great country. They were wrong however!
Those exposed to Agent Orange between the Korean and Vietnamese conflicts reproduced. The government, while exposing our soldiers to this elaborate compound, never did research and development on long term effects from claims given. If they had, which I'm sure they did, they hid and ignored the results. Agent Orange didn't just stay with those originally exposed. Instead, the soldiers and veterans accidentally passed their curse onto their offspring.
Here's the clincher for our group; no one "Agent Orange Child" has the same afflictions. Yet, we all suffer from the hands of a mutinous and uncaring government that poisoned our parents, never looking at what it would do for generations to come.
While our parents are dying before getting the benefits from the exposure, and poisoning, from the government, a new era dawns. There are finally groups also fighting for the innocent children born to this as well. The battle, of course, will be uphill and hard.
Imagine never smoking a single cigarette or doing anything to harm your lungs, yet every little bug turns into an upper respiratory, then full blown pneumonia. Imagine having strokes equal to a 50+ year old person's before you can even turn 30. Reproductive problems, similar to those found in generations who have a direct lineage to those who took DDE for morning sickness (my MeeMaw took this) have also been cited. The health problems continue with all organs, for Agent Orange loves attacking organs. Your internal body ages quicker due to being born with the illness.
Many of the babies born to Vietnam veterans were born sick. I, for one, was two weeks late. I was born dying, as some would say. I was under a jaundice light with all types of treatments. My heart was deformed. I stayed sick as a baby, as did my sister.
Skin conditions are also big in this elite group. These are rare skin conditions, as well. Every time the season changes, my hands and feet are covered in blisters. Most do not hurt, but they are ugly and cumbersome when trying to achieve tasks. I have ultra sensitive skin. I can use the best products the world over for body wash, shampoo, conditioner, laundry, lotion, etc; yet my skin still breaks open from being dry, and there is nothing I can do but salve and bandage the breaks.
Then, there are the one in a billion children. I am one of these. I never realized, until talking to every birth defect group possible, that my conditions could all be tied into one factor: Agent Orange. At the age of 16, literally one month before my 17th birthday, the rarest condition I have peaked it's ugly head out. My dad had a flashback during a fight, and I went through my door. (Please understand, I've never held this against my dad. He had no control over his PTSD or flashbacks, and he died with the guilt of my back unfortunately.) I went to a chiropractor a week later, when I couldn't hold myself up with my legs. He popped 7 vertebrae back in alignment, but I still couldn't stand, or walk. Slowly, my dad and I made it to where I could use crutches or a cane to divert the weight from my legs to an inanimate object, and I tried going to school with this. To my horror, my thinking of "I'm a body builder. I will wake up soon, and this will all be a nightmare," did not apply. It did not get better, but instead worse. The school was not exactly ADA compliant, and would not agree to homebound schooling (Rockdale High School, you're still a douche bag!), and the teachers were failing me, an honors student out. With tears in my eyes, and my scholarships vanishing, I told my dad to pull me out of school. Yes, because of my back, I am a high school drop out. I then learned that military, scholarships, the most prestigious theatre arts school, EVERYTHING I had for my future was GONE! I was paralyzed from the waist down. The most horrid part, however, is I could feel EVERYTHING! While going through several months of tests and treatments, the doctors had to keep me on a high dosage of everything.
Come November, my doctors still were no closer to an answer. They wanted to go in for exploratory surgery, which I flat out refused. My shooting instructor called, and told me of a chiropractor to go to. Now, I had my reservations. We are talking about someone going to some of the best neurosurgeons while the medical bills are going sky high, but I figured I had nothing to lose. Dr. Smith (now retired) looked at my x-ray, circled one spot, and then informs me I have a one in a billion birth defect. I have an extra bone in my pelvis, a mutation. It attached to the left lobe of my lowest vertebra and then snapped apart, essentially eating my sciatic nerve in half. He got it to line up correctly, and I spent a few months relearning how to walk. Surgery is not an option, for I only have a 30% chance of walking away from it. From what Dr. Smith said, if I sneeze wrong, I'll be paralyzed for the rest of my life. (Pleasing thought, wouldn't you agree?)
I've tried to do more research on this condition for 14 years now, and have came up with only a small amount of information. This condition is normally found in such places as where nuclear bombs or other high chemical concentrations occur. So, I went to birth defect group after birth defect group. Finally, an answer. They believe it is Agent Orange related. There is an Agent Orange Children's Clinic planned in Florida, if they ever get the money raised, and they want to see me once built.
We watch as our parents have glowing organs, knowing this will be us at their age or earlier. We watch as they die miserable, painful deaths, knowing this is our fate. We bury them after the PTSD makes suicide their end. A select few, those raised by single parents, awaken them during their graphic nightmares, and get to know Vietnam better than most. We also suffer mentally and physically with them.
Let us be heard! Share our struggle! Don't let our government and society hide us any longer! We, and our parents, have suffered in the dark long enough!
Anthony Foxx, not Anne Ferro will be replacing LaHood in the FMCSA. With no more background information besides the fact that he’s the mayor of Charlotte (basically, another community planner that gets elected to an office he knows nothing about), one must wonder what qualifies him? Is he qualified? Or is this just another plight to ensure most heads of government are under the affirmative action bylaws by large numbers?
The first thing to look at is Foxx’s political stance. Many that are not aware of history in trucking might inquire as to why. Simple fact: Republicans normally side with the truckers and make less regulations, while Democrats are ultimately the ones overregulating the industry and pacifying the special interest anti-trucking groups. For example, Bush was the sole reason for the old hours of service, opposing proposals for the more restrictive HOS truckers have to deal with now. (If you’re a trucker whining about overregulation while voting Dem, here’s your sign.) Sure enough, Foxx is a Democrat. The truckers must now prepare for another long line of regulations that will further weed out drivers with more than five years’ experience. If the regulations don’t kill them for how they drove 10-20 years ago, they grow tired of the chokehold, and retire. Furthermore, after running his city council electorate of Charlotte from 2005 to 2009, then mayoral office from 2009 to 2013, his good pal, Obama, appointed him secretary of transportation. That’s right, Obama. Mr. Push Everything Onto Rail and Overregulate Everyone We Can as if This was a Dictatorship Barack Hussein Obama. Quite frankly, pardon my fingers’ language, the industry is further fucked.
He is also a lawyer, which probably was enough experience in life that the community organizer gave him such a huge promotion.
Early on in his city councilman role , Foxx waged war for the environment, reducing greenhouse emissions, and leaning heavily against carbon footprints. Last I remember, Charlotte is not a very friendly town to diesel powered, black smoke roaring trucks. This is part of his environmental initiative. If he could have passed laws similar to the dreaded CARB initiatives, it is my belief he would have done so. Then, as Mayor, he pushed for more energy jobs, supporting Duke Energy and helping them create jobs. At least we can now call him Flip-Flop Foxx.
Foxx has also continually proven himself to be above the law, overstepping the bounds mandated by separation of Church and State. Instead of the correct “Day of Reason,” “Observation Day,” or “Day of Remembrance,” he still rides on the front of the “Day of Prayer,” alienating many of his own people. The fact that this, and others, show us Foxx truly believes he is above laws and guidelines, worries me while looking toward him replacing LaHood.
End of discussion here. Foxx hosted the Democratic National Convention, and worked with light rail and street cars. He is not experienced enough for the job, and shouldn’t have been elected for a position he doesn’t have the experience for.
The most incomprehensive, ignorant, inconceivable, irreprehensible, piece of legislation for hours of service goes live TODAY (July 1st if you’re late on the newsletter updates)!
You need to know that this was the answer from the courts following ATA & OOIDA’s lawsuit: screw you and start the new rules earlier!
You must now have two 1 a.m. to 5 a.m. periods during your 34 hour restart. Drive overnight? Too bad toots, your 34 will no longer be a 34.
You must now take a break within 8 hours. DO NOT go over 8 hours without a 30 minute break! You are then tired, in violation of hours of service, and out of service.
Do not even think about taking more than one restart a week! After all, the only way to ensure fatigued driving does not occur is to ensure that you can’t do more than one restart.
Your recaps are still good, however, so if you know what you’re doing, you won’t have to worry with restarts.
Here’s the thing! Do not gripe, whine, complain, threaten to illegally strike, blah blah blah. The clincher of this whole thing is actually you, the reader; the trucker. You allowed this to happen. You agreed to allow more overregulation and ignorant compliance to take over your industry! Now that it has occurred, do not act pissy about it. You made your bed, cover up sweetheart.
How did you make this happen? It is simple. While every advocate, include a trucking dog, was screaming at you to comment, TripPak made it where you could scan in your comments through them, a university was doing an online social media site to gather your comments and speak in the best interest of you, etc, there was an issue. NO ONE SAID A THING! This was the lowest number of comments from within the trucking industry on record. Now, however, everyone is so upset and up in arms about it. They’re talking from their ass when they could have done some good before it was too late.
Like most other things, truckers were their own worst enemy on the current hours of service. Enjoy what you decided you’d take by rolling over and playing dead.
It is once again upon us. The holiday I honor and get disgusted with people.
Imagine losing your father. The next thing you get is all these companies offering you sales to "honor him." This disturbs you! They're trying to make money off your loved one. Yet, you do it all the time to others.
Imagine, then, some 21 year old saying they deserve to be honored due to your father's death, although they never knew him. Would you agree to this or knock him out? You agree to it for someone else's father.
It's Memorial Day weekend. The weekend of sales triggered to let gluttons capitalize on another's death. The weekend of the living truly believing they should be put on the same pedestal of the dead.
Who thinks of capitalizing on the deaths of those lost to war? Who could honestly do such a thing under good presidence? What type of people would allow this type of action? How does one seriously go to these sales and capitalize on someone's life being taken without issue?
We as a country need to really get a tall dose of reality. How do you capitalize on the loss of someone else's loved one? How do you not see just how horrid this action is? Skip the Memorial Day sales this year! Tell them this is not what we were built on as a country. Let them know it's immoral.
The living soldiers also have an issue with believing they are to be honored with Memorial Day as well. THIS IS NOT SO! They have Armed Forces Day, the anniversary of the forming of their branch, etc. They are alive. They've survived. It's not their day. This is a day for ONLY the fallen! Not the veterans, active duty, or reservists.
Memorial Day is just for one thing, remembering the fallen soldiers. Many of our countrymen, past and present, have died due to their brave and courageous service to our country. Some have fallen due to the PTSD suffered from war. THESE are the men and women you should be remembering and appreciating this weekend; not the living people or the salesman.
Quit barbecuing, quit shopping, quit watching television on Memorial Day. Get off your ass, drive to a cemetery and HONOR THEM!
Expect us. This is as ominous as it comes, or so many thought. Pedophiles the world over are no longer hearing and seeing Expect Us. They now hear and see You Should've Expected Us. It's Too Late.Welcome to Operation Scarecrow, also known as #OpScarecrow on social media. This is a HUGE effort by members of Anonymous and Anonymous supporters to snuff out child porn on the internet. While it is picking up speed, and has been since the beginning, way more people need to be involved.From the getgo of Operation Scarecrow, truckers have been involved. A member of the "Anon Family" runs Truckers Against Pedophiles. They have been helping the truckers and others stay informed of the news, getting them involved in reporting crimes, and much more.Throughout the news and
social media, you will see many ops within this one op. There is #OpTrollBill, targeting Bill Talley. The pedophile was loudly on social media, being seen as a "leader" and "hero" to many. The pastebin is here
. Mr. Talley will be sentenced on the 29th of this month.#OpPedoChat is an active part of this group as well. You can also find #OpTrollPentel, #SavetheInnocent, and #OpPedoDown on Twitter to keep up with the newest.The targeting is select within the circles, and take downs are swift. The most aired part of this operation was for Alice Day, when they took down NAMBLA's site for many days.Two of the petitions they are involved with are Demanding a Dedicated Reporting Function for Child Sex Abuse Content on Facebook and Pentel: STOP HIDING OUT A PEDOPHILE!!!!
. Sign the petitions and get everyone you know involved. One warning for the pedophiles:
Are you a driver or non-driver who is in shape but still affected by sleep apnea?
Are you spending thousands of dollars on treatments and sleep studies?
Do you still have your tonsils or adenoids?
Did you know a few quick snips and some stitches may help you end sleep apnea for good and help you with attention shortage issues? This isn't just for adults either, it's used in children as well.
Tonsillectomy and removal of adenoids has been proven to help reduce sleep apnea already. This, of course, won't be helpful to the morbidly obese, but for a healthy adult. If you're morbidly obese, something as simple as losing weight will cure this for you.
As you know, currently you can work as a professional driver with sleep apnea. However, like diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, etc; sleep apnea will be the next disqualifier in the industry. So, talk to your doctor if you still have your tonsils or adenoids. Then, enjoy a lot of ice cream!
Years ago, I made a bet after speaking to a certain narcissist that there would only be ONE Trucker's Voice left standing in no time. You made certain of that by shutting down a certain Canadian PERMANENTLY.
A dear friend, Ray Gompf, congratulated me on the milestone of truly being the only one left standing.
Who better to help me cover Canada than Canadians? I do not pay writers, I just give you a source to have your voice reach an international level. If this is something you want, email me! We will have our first Canadian writer debut this week, but I want more. You need to have the world know the issues facing you, and I want to give an avenue for it!
When reflecting, people are more upfront and honest. This is because past tense is easier to be brutal once the events are over then when the events were taking place.
I remember being fake. I faked a smile. I faked happiness.
I remember being in a one-sided relationship. There was no give and take. There was no compromise.
I remember never being able to enjoy shutting down for a few days by doing normal people things. The other person always chose to drink and hide out from the world instead.
I remember crying myself to sleep more times than I wish to count.
I remember his family trying to break us up, and starting us down a downhill spiral.
I remember all holidays and traditions not mattering because they got in the way of what he wanted.
I remember few knowing the struggle I was in well. A few select friends knew, and were great shoulders to cry on.
I remember rage. He raged when he drank, and was hateful and spiteful due to being hurt in his past.
I remember learning how to hate the man I once fell in love with.
I remember everything getting back on track and the alcohol not taking first place.
I remember when the bottom dropped. He could barely lift himself into his truck and his legs couldn't function right around the three pedals.
I remember hospital after hospital, trying to remember what was wrong.
I remember the day we got out of the truck.
I remember both of us crying.
I remember being scared, unsure of our future.
I remember being annoyed and piss at everyone, for everyone knew what was best for us, even though they weren't us.
I remember losing many friends who couldn't understand why I was so bitter.
I remember facing he was disabled, and the shock, grief, and anger that brought.
I remember him crying daily, the pain was so extreme.
I remember our friends, and some strangers, helping us get back on our feet.
I remember going through the same "charities" I've sent others through, and realizing why they gave up hope. One lost our paperwork several times, and then lectured us like we were children.
I remember realizing the same people we try to help with Trucking Santas every year were in the same boat as us for once.
I remember the feeling of hopelessness and drowning.
I remember taking charge, getting a management job, and being the bread winner.
I remember him becoming an addict to pills.
I remember how bitter and angry he became toward me.
I remember a dear friend talking me out of doing something stupid.
I remember saving his life when he took too many pills.
I remember opening the door and telling him it was me or the pills.
I remember him flushing the pills, and deciding to only take them when it was unbearable.
I remember disability turning him down.
I remember so-called friends talking shit because they weren't in our situation, but all of a sudden were experts on our lives and how we should do things. Obamacare was the answer and I had better confirm to their libtard ideologies or they would ruin me.
I remember worrying about the future of The Trucker's Voice, Trucking Santas, and other projects.
I remember fighting to ensure families in need received Christmas, even though we couldn't afford to pay our bills.
I remember a handful of friends that still to this day help on occasion because I'm still playing catch up.
I remember finding the strength in myself to hold up all the weight of the world.
I remember him deciding to go to college, due to the fact that with his back he will never drive again.
I remember being even more worried. I now have to take care of us and put him through college.
I remember beating myself up every day. I go after myself for my weight, for my disabling injury hindering me from having two jobs, for my physical flaws, for everything I possibly can.
I remember facing the truth. I've loathed myself for a long time. I'm one that wants perfection but can not be perfect. My life can not be perfect.
I remember coming to a new realization. I am just fine. I need to quit butchering myself down.
Thank you to all the friends that have supported me, and will continue to do so. It is you who have kept me moving, and you who have kept me strong!
Many who follow the chronicles, rants, and raves of Trucker's Voice, know that I'm now off the road but still very active in the trucking community. (I honestly have more time to throw out polls, research, and do social experiments now that I'm not finding loads, ordering permits, setting up escorts, and helping secure and tarp loads.)
One of the things that came with coming off the road, besides going back into my management career, was Clayton being more in the picture than he has been in a long time. For those who don't know my personal life (which many don't), Clayton is the one guy that I dated off and on for the longest, since I was 12 or 13. We are counterparts, and are so close it has always been a love/hate thing with us. I, to this day, am his little princess.
Clayton, however, is even more sedentary than I am nowadays. This is Clayton now:
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My dear, sweet Clayton ended up doing things he shouldn't have. I told him a few weeks before he became a number that I had this "hunch" that the fast and fun times were coming to an end, and that he needed to quit while he was ahead. Instead of listening to the one person who's always been right, he took his own coin phrase to literally. "Go hard!"
I write him daily, when I can remind myself in a hectic schedule to write daily. As of this month, I'm on the
visitation list. Visitation takes me four hours to arrive to. So, I woke up at 0200, and left. I only have one shirt that can not be misconstrued as too low cut for prison standards. (I really am considering buying a burqa.) This shirt happens to by me Central Oregon Trucking Company polo shirt, so I wore it because I didn't want to be chastised once all the way near Corpus.
Most of the time out on the road, I was glued to my computer and phone, not paying attention to much of anything around me. Yesterday, however, I had nothing but eyes on the road.
In the Salado rest area, the 4wheeler side was packed up of Mexico license plates. We all know this vehicle. The trucks and minivans are stacked up so high that they would demolish their cargo on a low bridge. Why, oh why, do they always get away with this?
In Austin, we finally started hitting a little bit of big rig traffic. The only issue we honestly had with a semi was a Bolt Express driver who believed he should be in the middle lane of a freeway, going 60 in a 70. We passed him on the right, and he finally chose to move over. At the truck stops we stopped in, I was given looks as if I was a road block on their way to coffee and donuts, until I moved my hair away from COTC's logo, and they then treated me like a fellow trucker.
Almost to Seguin, we saw an all too familiar sight from late night driving in most of any states. A swerver. This man was all over the road. The worst part, he would come to a dead stop on a 65 mph highway with someone right behind him. So, 911 was called, and he was pulled over.
Finally, and luckily after the drunk, we made it to the prison through the thick East Texas fog. This in and of itself was an experience like nothing I've ever been through. You have a lot of doors that open when someone pushes a button. Said doors then slam shut behind you, reminding you that you, although you do not reside here, are not free to leave on your own free will. The signs stating that "No hostage is allowed to walk past this door." was enough to remind you that you could die while seeing Clayton. I had an underwire bra on, so I was frisked by an older (approximately 60 year old) woman, which was not my idea of a fun time. A guard informed me that 85% of this said prison's offenders were sexual predators. Let me tell you, this was an even more comforting thought, since all but those with gang affiliations are allowed to openly sit and visit without any silver accessories. I elected for a private booth, since I must talk to one of the bad boys not allowed to sit in the open. All the hell and panic was worth it in the end. I surprised Clayton and the smile was worth any bit of hell I have to endure to visit, not to mention the smile melted my panic. 1.5 hours in, we were informed by the guards we had half an hour left. This shocked us because the conversation had the time fly.
We fueled up at the local H-E-B, and started back to home. On the way, just around Seguin again, another road block. People coming home from Mudfest were in a convoy. Two RV's, and two trucks hauling the mudders. They made traffic crawl at 15 mph for a good 10 miles, then made us come to a complete stop. Finally, with them out of the way, we hit 35 again in San Marcos.
We encountered many semi drivers too distracted to stay inside their lane. Many couldn't keep speed due to them being distracted. However, we encountered more 4wheelers practicing the same practices as the few drivers. These included eating (and not the finger food, I'm good to driver kind of eating from either type of driver), texting, playing on a computer, putting on make up, etc. After dodging all the idiots, a car comes off the entrance ramp and entirely cuts off a flatbed out of Longview. I had hoped he'd have pushed the car down the highway, seeing as to how he actually had witnesses to testify in his behalf. But, like most professional drivers, he slowed and let the car continue.
Being cut off, having our ass end rode, and almost being side swiped by semis while in a little half ton pickup was not fun. Lastly, we stopped at what is now a Pilot in Jarrell (thanks a lot pilot) to do a potty break before finishing the last half an hour back. Once again, I started off with my hair in front of COTC's logo, then moved it.
The moral of this story is a long one. First of all, when drivers keep screaming they want respect from the general public, they need to see how they act toward John Q and Jane S Public in truck stops. The only way I was handled with respect while in professional clothes was by ensuring they saw a trucking company's logo. If enough people that aren't associated with trucking receive this treatment, how do you have the right to complain when they treat truckers the same way? Also, if you want to complain about how the 4wheelers drive, you also need to complain about how the other truckers drive as well. Until we fix the problems in our own industry, we have no right to speak against others.
Always remember, you never know who the person in the truck stop or on the highway with you is. You need to treat everyone the same, for they will start treating you the same.
Lastly, to the driver who had baggy sweats that were ripped and the stained up holy shirt, scratching his fat and giving me a "come here sexy look," I hope you see this! You disgusted me! Clean up and shape up bud!
Lastly, unless you've got the history that Clayton and I do, never ask me to come visit you in jail! It's not a fun place!