Kristi Cramer's Blog: Bounded in a Nutshell - Posts Tagged "cb"
Name Calling
Speaking of childish, another throwback to the 1970s is the CB Handle. For a while there, when cell phones came out, folks eschewed the Citizen’s Band for their little mobile phones with the smart apps and push to talk. But after 2020, the love for CB was rediscovered.
You don’t have to know a phone number, you don’t have to dial anything. You just set the channel and have tedious or thrilling, dull or dynamic conversations with the big rig wheeling beside you. Or the satisfaction of warning oncoming traffic about accidents, or the bears around the next bend. (That’s a cop to you four wheelers.) Gossip and joke and flirt and instruct. It is an ‘ancient’ marvel whose time has not yet ended.
And why go with the prosaic when you’re talking over the airwaves? Why say “Hey, it’s Melanie, are you listening?” when you can chirp “Hey y’all, Hella Mel is on the rampage! Who’s got their ears on, comeback?”
CB Handles have another function: privacy. With the distances we travel, we put ourselves out there a lot, exposing ourselves to theft—both identity and financial. With the CB Handle, we can keep our public face separate from our public record, so to speak.
Truck stop and lounge purchases go against a credit account accessed by our ID chips—cashiers never see a name. The chip knows who you are, but it’s not saying. The Dash Genie—networked across every truck in the US Fleet—will only address you by your handle, so you can keep that little tiny bit of anonymity.
It’s a trifling gesture, but comforting. For instance, if I get on a truck with a Solo who won’t stop hitting on me, the last thing I want is for him to be able to look up my phone number. Larry the Loser can only use my handle to contact me directly if I specifically allow it. Otherwise, he has to go through official channels, and any message becomes very public. Most hopefuls won’t bother.
It kinda makes me think about the Old West, when the outlaws had names like Billy the Kid, Three-Fingered Jack, Wild Bill....
And drivers today have fun with handles, too. Like Hella Mel, for instance. I started out as Miracle Mel, which I thought was funny. But as I got around, started making friends, I shared time with a few particular fellows, some of whom claimed I showed them a helluva time. I guess. But Hella Mel caught on, and stuck.
Some of the more creative handles out there: Dimestore Joe, Sassy Sissy, Big Grizzly, Redwood Bob, Pasadena Peg, Jubblie Julie, 66 Phoebe, Renny the Rabbit, and Joliet Jackson. Then there’s Texas Tony—he’s from Mexico, got his citizenship before the Wall went up. Tijuana Juan’s family is from Michoacán, but he was born in Saginaw Michigan; he’s a citizen but keeps getting harassed to prove it. Baltimore Bill is from Toledo. Shady Larry is actually a great guy.
Grandpa Jack is retiring, losing his Ghost status and CDL just because he is turning sixty-five, but he is fit, more so than most young drivers. And Solo driver Rhode Island Rory.... He’s my guy. Smart, sexy, honest and...skilled. If I were to get attached to anyone, it would be Rory.
Next week: Driver Dynamics
© 2013 Kristi Cramer
You don’t have to know a phone number, you don’t have to dial anything. You just set the channel and have tedious or thrilling, dull or dynamic conversations with the big rig wheeling beside you. Or the satisfaction of warning oncoming traffic about accidents, or the bears around the next bend. (That’s a cop to you four wheelers.) Gossip and joke and flirt and instruct. It is an ‘ancient’ marvel whose time has not yet ended.
And why go with the prosaic when you’re talking over the airwaves? Why say “Hey, it’s Melanie, are you listening?” when you can chirp “Hey y’all, Hella Mel is on the rampage! Who’s got their ears on, comeback?”
CB Handles have another function: privacy. With the distances we travel, we put ourselves out there a lot, exposing ourselves to theft—both identity and financial. With the CB Handle, we can keep our public face separate from our public record, so to speak.
Truck stop and lounge purchases go against a credit account accessed by our ID chips—cashiers never see a name. The chip knows who you are, but it’s not saying. The Dash Genie—networked across every truck in the US Fleet—will only address you by your handle, so you can keep that little tiny bit of anonymity.
It’s a trifling gesture, but comforting. For instance, if I get on a truck with a Solo who won’t stop hitting on me, the last thing I want is for him to be able to look up my phone number. Larry the Loser can only use my handle to contact me directly if I specifically allow it. Otherwise, he has to go through official channels, and any message becomes very public. Most hopefuls won’t bother.
It kinda makes me think about the Old West, when the outlaws had names like Billy the Kid, Three-Fingered Jack, Wild Bill....
And drivers today have fun with handles, too. Like Hella Mel, for instance. I started out as Miracle Mel, which I thought was funny. But as I got around, started making friends, I shared time with a few particular fellows, some of whom claimed I showed them a helluva time. I guess. But Hella Mel caught on, and stuck.
Some of the more creative handles out there: Dimestore Joe, Sassy Sissy, Big Grizzly, Redwood Bob, Pasadena Peg, Jubblie Julie, 66 Phoebe, Renny the Rabbit, and Joliet Jackson. Then there’s Texas Tony—he’s from Mexico, got his citizenship before the Wall went up. Tijuana Juan’s family is from Michoacán, but he was born in Saginaw Michigan; he’s a citizen but keeps getting harassed to prove it. Baltimore Bill is from Toledo. Shady Larry is actually a great guy.
Grandpa Jack is retiring, losing his Ghost status and CDL just because he is turning sixty-five, but he is fit, more so than most young drivers. And Solo driver Rhode Island Rory.... He’s my guy. Smart, sexy, honest and...skilled. If I were to get attached to anyone, it would be Rory.
Next week: Driver Dynamics
© 2013 Kristi Cramer
Bounded in a Nutshell
The skinny on Kristi's life, musings, and occasional bits on writing, works in progress, and promotions.
My blog title is from Shakespeare's Hamlet:
Hamlet:
O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and ...more
My blog title is from Shakespeare's Hamlet:
Hamlet:
O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and ...more
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