So, I am taking things lightly in order to preserve our bankroll for an upcoming family event (the way things go, I have to spend it before I make it, sometimes long before). There have been some register installs, but I haven't had any luck landing them, even though I didn't counteroffer, figuring I'd just take a lower net pay.
So I had to do a POS changeover at a restaurant. The ticket demands business casual, so I went to the site wearing the usual khaki slacks. I put in the POS, ran the cables and tested everything, pretty routine...but then as I hopped in my car and drove away, I noticed the grease from the floor had left some handy dandy stains on the slacks. Ouch.
To top it off, the buyers on one of the overnight installs tried to contact me....but as it would require a four hour drive from where I was working to the site, it was pretty much out of the question before they asked. Which was unfortunate, because the pay was pretty good closer to the start time.
So I am trying to pull up a couple of close jobs for tomorrow. I have to be in Beaver, OK on Friday, and that will likely be my last ticket before we leave. As always, though, I am trying to find some tickets along the route, but not too many, as we have a lot of ground to cover in relatively short time. From here to Fort Leonard Wood, and back. I'm trying to treat the return trip as a little bit of R&R, but honestly, since going full time into independent contracting, R&R is hard to do.
I am hoping to stop by the Woody Guthrie Center on the trip home, to get a little research in. We're spending as much as a vacation, may as well treat it as one (albeit a short one!)
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Thursday, September 11, 2014
"Well, We Know Where We're Going, But We Don't Know Where We've Been"
Yesterday, I loaded up on a trip into Colorado and Kansas. I had the car instead of a van, a quick site in Colorado and three sites the following day.
Just a few minutes after getting on the road from Trinidad to La Junta, the Talking Heads' "Road to Nowhere" came on my phone. Pretty appropriate for that stretch of road.
As I passed the Highway 160 turnoff, I debated taking the alternate road in, but decided otherwise. Ten minutes later, as I was stalled behind the first of three one lane roads, with their accompanying pilot cars, I was starting to rethink my decision, but I allowed an extra hour, so it wasn't as critical as it could have been.
The site took 26 minutes, and I had the rest of the day to kill and just two hours' drive to today's site. I decided a detour was in order and drove up to a town that I had never seen before.
When I was 18, I hit the road and drove until my car ran out of gas north of Rolla, Kansas. I was given a ride to a town near the Colorado border (probably Syracuse; after all of these years I don't remember for certain), where they arranged a ride up to Limon, Colorado. All I remember about the guys were that they were from Cheyenne Wells, Colorado, and that they were Jehovah's Witnesses.
So I decided to swing through Cheyenne Wells. I didn't expect to find anything, but I did consider putting up a sign telling the story and inviting the family to contact us (it's a very small town, so if they're still in the area, they would probably get the message if I left it at the post office). I chickened out, though, figuring there was nothing to gain out of it. If they did remember me, I doubt they've spent that much time thinking about a hitchhiker they picked up 26 years ago. On the other hand, I've never forgot any of my hitchhikers over the years.
I took a road that, on further examination, only added even MORE unnecessary miles to the trip, and found myself grateful I was in the car. It was worth it, though, as I stopped at Fort Wallace, a small fort in western Kansas. I went to the nearby cemetery, and walked through it, enjoying the quiet solitude of the moment.The cemetery had a monument that was erected around the end of the Civil War. It is currently protected by a steel enclosure. I walked through the replica headstones (the original graves were moved years ago) of the older part of the cemetary that had once belonged to the fort, and saw the headstone for the murdered members of the German family, a family that had been attacked and several members murdered in the battles with the American Indians that were fighting over the land on these plains. I can't help but think I will be using the story later.
Monument Rocks is a series of outlying rock formations that stand out above the plains and were used as a marker for settlers headed west. I didn't get a close view of them, but saw several much smaller, but equally interesting formations by the roadside.
I drove down past Monument Rocks and saw them in the distance, but was getting aa bit road weary and ready to pull in, needing to be well rested for today's work. Even with as much road as I've covered, it is still compelling to know how much I have NOT covered.
Just a few minutes after getting on the road from Trinidad to La Junta, the Talking Heads' "Road to Nowhere" came on my phone. Pretty appropriate for that stretch of road.
As I passed the Highway 160 turnoff, I debated taking the alternate road in, but decided otherwise. Ten minutes later, as I was stalled behind the first of three one lane roads, with their accompanying pilot cars, I was starting to rethink my decision, but I allowed an extra hour, so it wasn't as critical as it could have been.
The site took 26 minutes, and I had the rest of the day to kill and just two hours' drive to today's site. I decided a detour was in order and drove up to a town that I had never seen before.
When I was 18, I hit the road and drove until my car ran out of gas north of Rolla, Kansas. I was given a ride to a town near the Colorado border (probably Syracuse; after all of these years I don't remember for certain), where they arranged a ride up to Limon, Colorado. All I remember about the guys were that they were from Cheyenne Wells, Colorado, and that they were Jehovah's Witnesses.
So I decided to swing through Cheyenne Wells. I didn't expect to find anything, but I did consider putting up a sign telling the story and inviting the family to contact us (it's a very small town, so if they're still in the area, they would probably get the message if I left it at the post office). I chickened out, though, figuring there was nothing to gain out of it. If they did remember me, I doubt they've spent that much time thinking about a hitchhiker they picked up 26 years ago. On the other hand, I've never forgot any of my hitchhikers over the years.
I took a road that, on further examination, only added even MORE unnecessary miles to the trip, and found myself grateful I was in the car. It was worth it, though, as I stopped at Fort Wallace, a small fort in western Kansas. I went to the nearby cemetery, and walked through it, enjoying the quiet solitude of the moment.The cemetery had a monument that was erected around the end of the Civil War. It is currently protected by a steel enclosure. I walked through the replica headstones (the original graves were moved years ago) of the older part of the cemetary that had once belonged to the fort, and saw the headstone for the murdered members of the German family, a family that had been attacked and several members murdered in the battles with the American Indians that were fighting over the land on these plains. I can't help but think I will be using the story later.
Monument Rocks is a series of outlying rock formations that stand out above the plains and were used as a marker for settlers headed west. I didn't get a close view of them, but saw several much smaller, but equally interesting formations by the roadside.
I drove down past Monument Rocks and saw them in the distance, but was getting aa bit road weary and ready to pull in, needing to be well rested for today's work. Even with as much road as I've covered, it is still compelling to know how much I have NOT covered.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Kansas Bound
In the morning, I'm off to my next assignment. Living next to a time zone, not only do I have to calculate drive times, I have to stop and think whether the time difference will come into play.
Tomorrow's a one stop -- La Junta, Colorado. A fairly straightforward job that I had been declined further down because dispatch deemed it too simple for the rates I was asking. Given some of the comments in the notes, I think it's safe to say they overestimated the ability of techs who take lowball bids. Oh, well, "you live some you learn some" can apply as much to them as to us.
I have to cross over into Kansas, and was debating a couple of other Colorado jobs before rolling that way, but they're too far north to make the detour. So it's a one stop day, leaving me with miles to cover but not a lot in the way of obligation before Thursday morning in Garden City. I get a little busier after that -- 2 jobs in Garden City, then on to Dodge. I am not sure what the time window looks like, but there's an unfilled ticket in Scott City I may be taking a second look at before heading on to Dodge. A hectic day, to be sure.
Fortunately, the drive works for me in this case, and driving east to west across the time zone fives me the hour back that I'll lose tomorrow night. That's always nice.
I'm not sure of prospects to sit down and play on either day, but I'm certainly willing if someone else is willing to listen. And I may play on Boot Hill for a couple of songs just to say I played on Boot Hill.
After all of that, I will be getting to roll back for a bit of R&R. The online charter school my oldest two attend is having a picnic in Santa Fe, and I may head down to the plaza following the picnic and see if I can make a few bucks in tips.
It's a bit frustrating being held to 2 to 3 day weeks, but that's going to have to be the routine for the short term. We're working on long term changes, but sometimes that seems quite far off.
Tomorrow's a one stop -- La Junta, Colorado. A fairly straightforward job that I had been declined further down because dispatch deemed it too simple for the rates I was asking. Given some of the comments in the notes, I think it's safe to say they overestimated the ability of techs who take lowball bids. Oh, well, "you live some you learn some" can apply as much to them as to us.
I have to cross over into Kansas, and was debating a couple of other Colorado jobs before rolling that way, but they're too far north to make the detour. So it's a one stop day, leaving me with miles to cover but not a lot in the way of obligation before Thursday morning in Garden City. I get a little busier after that -- 2 jobs in Garden City, then on to Dodge. I am not sure what the time window looks like, but there's an unfilled ticket in Scott City I may be taking a second look at before heading on to Dodge. A hectic day, to be sure.
Fortunately, the drive works for me in this case, and driving east to west across the time zone fives me the hour back that I'll lose tomorrow night. That's always nice.
I'm not sure of prospects to sit down and play on either day, but I'm certainly willing if someone else is willing to listen. And I may play on Boot Hill for a couple of songs just to say I played on Boot Hill.
After all of that, I will be getting to roll back for a bit of R&R. The online charter school my oldest two attend is having a picnic in Santa Fe, and I may head down to the plaza following the picnic and see if I can make a few bucks in tips.
It's a bit frustrating being held to 2 to 3 day weeks, but that's going to have to be the routine for the short term. We're working on long term changes, but sometimes that seems quite far off.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Back in the Saddle Again
So, it's been a while since I've updated. With school starting, having to work my schedule around my kids, my wife's work schedule, and Friday night football (working the boards at the radio station).
I'm not getting rich riding this trail, but we're holding our own (my favorite line; the ironic final radio transmission from the Edmund Fitzgerald. The final part of that sentence anyway). And, I can say that in between the madness and the fretting from job to job, I'm having the most fun I've had as an adult.
After the job that never ended (a job that, had it been done right from the support end, should have been 2 visits and done, but stretched out over 3 1/2 working days, plus daily calls/updates over Labor Day weekend), I have work scheduled for tomorrow in Clovis and Portales. So I was very pleased to see a job come across my desk for Tucumcari, literally on the way, for this afternoon. It wound up being a very brief job, as the problems were related to power issues and resolved without replacement equipment, but that's the flip side of the "job that never ends" jobs. And since it was a piggyback job, I won't complain. Plus, it puts me two hours closer to Clovis, allowing me to not have to leave QUITE so early.
So, because the early rise can be difficult to facilitate from the back of the van, I decided to spring for a cheap hotel. Not $50 a night cheap, nope, that is high class for our intrepid High Tech Hobo. I went to the $29 a night joint, and I'm glad I did.
Shortly after I arrived, an older woman called out from her room, about 75 feet away, to inquire whether I had a lighter. I stated the negative, and she began ambling across the parking lot with her walker. I unladed my things, and after 5 minutes (yes, 5 literal minutes; I felt terrible), she again inquired about the lighter. Apparently she hadn't heard, and, had there been a gas station nearby, my guilt would likely have propelled me through its doors to accommodate this persistent individual. Fortunately, the motel's maintenance man (or something like that) came to her rescue, so no harm no foul (except the lingering guilt).
I settles into my room to find a bare selection of channels, which is fine because I'm really not that big of a TV buff anyway. I was delighted to find the wireless router positioned right outside my door, although if I thought the owners had any money, I'd probably try to pitch a router upgrade in exchange for a few nights' stays when I'm out this way.
After uploading my resume to a headhunter, and watching a couple of crime dramas, I decided to venture to the office for some ice. I debated putting on shoes, decided against, which wound up being a good thing as it prevented me from being overdressed.
I asked about ice, they didn't have an ice machine, but stored ice in the freezer, which they were kind enough to get me from buckets stowed to the side. I gathered that ice requests are not horribly common here. As the ice was being prepared, I chatted with the locals about the weather as they rolled their own cigarettes and sat around the table in the office. It was kind of a Norman Rockwell meets Jeff Foxworthy moment.
There was an older handyman early on who said he played the guitar, but he's apparently gone home. I was kind of hoping to stir up come picking.
As I headed back to my room, the young maintenance man and his apparent girlfriend were debating the severity and seriousness of a spider bite.
Good times. These are the stories you'd never get from a Hilton!
I'm not getting rich riding this trail, but we're holding our own (my favorite line; the ironic final radio transmission from the Edmund Fitzgerald. The final part of that sentence anyway). And, I can say that in between the madness and the fretting from job to job, I'm having the most fun I've had as an adult.
After the job that never ended (a job that, had it been done right from the support end, should have been 2 visits and done, but stretched out over 3 1/2 working days, plus daily calls/updates over Labor Day weekend), I have work scheduled for tomorrow in Clovis and Portales. So I was very pleased to see a job come across my desk for Tucumcari, literally on the way, for this afternoon. It wound up being a very brief job, as the problems were related to power issues and resolved without replacement equipment, but that's the flip side of the "job that never ends" jobs. And since it was a piggyback job, I won't complain. Plus, it puts me two hours closer to Clovis, allowing me to not have to leave QUITE so early.
So, because the early rise can be difficult to facilitate from the back of the van, I decided to spring for a cheap hotel. Not $50 a night cheap, nope, that is high class for our intrepid High Tech Hobo. I went to the $29 a night joint, and I'm glad I did.
Shortly after I arrived, an older woman called out from her room, about 75 feet away, to inquire whether I had a lighter. I stated the negative, and she began ambling across the parking lot with her walker. I unladed my things, and after 5 minutes (yes, 5 literal minutes; I felt terrible), she again inquired about the lighter. Apparently she hadn't heard, and, had there been a gas station nearby, my guilt would likely have propelled me through its doors to accommodate this persistent individual. Fortunately, the motel's maintenance man (or something like that) came to her rescue, so no harm no foul (except the lingering guilt).
I settles into my room to find a bare selection of channels, which is fine because I'm really not that big of a TV buff anyway. I was delighted to find the wireless router positioned right outside my door, although if I thought the owners had any money, I'd probably try to pitch a router upgrade in exchange for a few nights' stays when I'm out this way.
After uploading my resume to a headhunter, and watching a couple of crime dramas, I decided to venture to the office for some ice. I debated putting on shoes, decided against, which wound up being a good thing as it prevented me from being overdressed.
I asked about ice, they didn't have an ice machine, but stored ice in the freezer, which they were kind enough to get me from buckets stowed to the side. I gathered that ice requests are not horribly common here. As the ice was being prepared, I chatted with the locals about the weather as they rolled their own cigarettes and sat around the table in the office. It was kind of a Norman Rockwell meets Jeff Foxworthy moment.
There was an older handyman early on who said he played the guitar, but he's apparently gone home. I was kind of hoping to stir up come picking.
As I headed back to my room, the young maintenance man and his apparent girlfriend were debating the severity and seriousness of a spider bite.
Good times. These are the stories you'd never get from a Hilton!
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