Weekend In The Catskills

"And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings." W. B. Yeats, "The Lake Of Innisfree."

I just returned from two wonderful days in the Catskill mountains with my wife, Judy. The temperature was in the low fifties with not a cloud in the sky, brilliant weather for the first weekend in February. We spent two afternoons snow shoeing in the wooded mountains where I am slowly learning the tricks of an outdoorsman. Hopefully I will soon learn enough to stay warm and not get lost. Sandwiched in between our outdoor exercise was a rowdy evening at Slopes in Tannersville, New York where we watched the Patriots eke out another Super Bowl victory over the Philadelphia Eagles.
On the way home on Tuesday (We stretched the weekend.) I started thinking about how much I enjoy our weekends in the mountains; and how hard it is to return to work. I know I am still young at 54, but I am not as resilient as I was twenty years ago. I can no longer tolerate the mistakes our employees and owner-operators make. I do not rebound well from the accidents, breakdowns, late arrivals, and rejections that are an everyday part of the trials and tribulations of hauling produce. It's not that I can't or don't take care of the problems. I do. I take care of everything. It's just that I can't shake the problems off like before and move on to the next order of business...I have to run to the mountains.
And then my cell phone rang. It was Jeff.
"Guess who just called me?" he said.
"Who?" I answered, somewhat annoyed. I do not like to play this guessing game. Just tell me who called.
"Lee," said Jeff. "He said he talked to his wife about getting back on the road, and wants to come back to work. He's going to stop by the shop after work tomorrow."
Wonderful, I thought sarcastically. I remembered his past performance. Don't get me wrong. Lee is a damn good worker...when he wants to work. Couple that with his dislike of being away from home and you have the recipe for a problem employee. An employee who would leave a load sitting in the yard because he wanted to go ice fishing, or deadhead our truck home from Florida because it is his his wife's father's birthday.
"I'll be there by two," I said. "Let's see what he has to say."
"Yeah, ok," said Jeff. "And Dewane just called. He needs more money. Said he blew another tire."
"Late again?" I asked.
"Yep," said Jeff.
"I'm sure he'll have another excuse to justify it all," I said.
"He wants me to wire him a hundred and give fifty to his wife," said Jeff.
"What about Tom?" I asked. "Did he get loaded yesterday?"
"Nope," said Jeff. "That broker won't load him any more."
"Why not?" I asked. "What happened this time?"
"He was supposed to unload in Plant City early yesterday morning," said Jeff. "But he got there late and didn't get unloaded until 5 PM. Broker wouldn't hold his backhaul. Gave it away and won't load him any more."
"So now he's just sitting in Florida," I said.
"Yep," said Jeff. "He said he was late because a friend of his blew a turbo and asked him to pick one up in South Carolina and bring it to Plant City where his friend would meet him."
"And because of this he is late," I said. "And we're out another load because of his latest excuse!"
I hung up the phone with Jeff. It's always the same with these two guys, I thought. One man can't get there on time without a problem and the other man has everything on his mind except getting to where he has to go on time. It's all so simple, I thought. Just do your job. That's all I ask of our employees and owner-operators. JUST DO YOUR JOB!
I'll be home in a couple hours, I thought. I'll solve these problems.
And this weekend I'll be back in the mountains.

The Highway Reporter