One thing leads to another
Good Sunday morning, my friends. Hope you're not experiencing too many inconveniences courtesy of the harsh weather that most of the country has seen over the past day or two.
I returned Friday afternoon from a car trip, which is a little less common than my recent frequent air travel. I had to visit assigned accounts in northwestern Ohio last week, so I opt to drive when visiting that locality. My trip began Tuesday morning and ended as mentioned above.
Anyway, I was cruising along 1-75 northbound through Cincinnati and Dayton, the two largest cities through which I pass on this trip, and was about forty miles north of Dayton when traffic came to an absolute standstill late Tuesday morning.
I've learned to watch what the truckers do, as their elevated driving positions give them a better perspective of the road ahead. Several were moving into the lefthand lane, so I followed suit. We crept along in a start-and-stop fashion for well over two miles before we could see evidence of the reason for the backup. Gradually I happened upon the scene of what happened. It started with some cones to block the right lane. Then I could see gears and other moving parts, most likely from the engine or transmission of some vehicle. Finally I got a good look at the accident, which brought out several state police officers and at least one ambulance.
If my speculation is correct, one semi rear-ended another. The rear truck was bright yellow, and as I passed it was obvious that the majority of it was crushed, indicating a high-speed collision. About a quarter-mile ahead was the truck with which the yellow one collided. It was a partially crushed trailer, and there were potatoes everywhere. They were still falling out of the trailer as I passed, and the road was covered with piles of them. My biggest question was why were all of these potatoes packed into that trailer loose, and how were they loaded?
Anyway, my fellow motorists and I passed through and resumed our journeys at normal speed. I later met up with a colleague and told her that the scene reminded me of a song by the late Harry Chapin, entitled "30,000 Pounds of Bananas." Find that song online somewhere if you're not familiar, your curiosity will be rewarded. I found it on YouTube to send to my associate to close the loop on that conversation.
I was taking this colleague to the airport early Friday morning about it and just mentioned that that funny song had been rolling around in my mind ever since, and that I was pretty sure that my phone contained at least some of Harry Chapin's music. I resolved to listen to some of it if I could find it.
So after delivering her for her outbound flight, I did locate what of Chapin's music resides on my phone, and listened to about a dozen songs.
If you're in my age range (late 50's) you probably remember Harry from a periodic hit record. My limited collection from his catalogue included songs like "Cat's in the Cradle," "W O L D" and "Taxi." Chapin's music was always a story, and his songs were often too long for mid-70's pop radio. He died tragically in an auto accident in the early 80's.
I actually saw Harry Chapin in concert once, at Rupp Arena in Lexington. The show began and after the first song Harry said hello to the audience and marveled at what a big building Rupp was (and is), even saying "this is a gymnasium, right?" He then asked that the house lights be turned on and expressed dismay at the fact that some of the audience was sitting a long way from the stage. He then ordered that these people be allowed to move closer, that it was silly for them to be sitting far away. I watched as about a thousand people moved down and forward. Harry explained that "I rented this place, so they can't stop me" or something to that effect, and when he was satisfied that enough of the audience was gathered around the stage, the show resumed.
In listening to the ten or twelve of his songs that I have, I noted that the continual theme of his music is melancholy. Most of the primary characters in his songs have undergone some sort of heartache or even actual tragedy, including the obligatory lost loves but they range in other directions, too. One that I always find especially touching details a dry cleaner who loved to sing in local shows and in church, and so impressed his neighbors that they persuaded him to rent a hall in New York and make his show business debut. The critics reviewed his performance unfavorably, and he never sang in public again, but loved music and continued to sing when he was working late at night cleaning clothes in his shop. Because that's something a real person would do, and real people seemed to always inhabit Chapin's lyrics.
Anyway, I always think it's interesting that a random event like seeing the aftermath of a traffic accident (and let's hope no one was seriously injured) can lead to some resurrected memories.
Hope you have a good week.
I returned Friday afternoon from a car trip, which is a little less common than my recent frequent air travel. I had to visit assigned accounts in northwestern Ohio last week, so I opt to drive when visiting that locality. My trip began Tuesday morning and ended as mentioned above.
Anyway, I was cruising along 1-75 northbound through Cincinnati and Dayton, the two largest cities through which I pass on this trip, and was about forty miles north of Dayton when traffic came to an absolute standstill late Tuesday morning.
I've learned to watch what the truckers do, as their elevated driving positions give them a better perspective of the road ahead. Several were moving into the lefthand lane, so I followed suit. We crept along in a start-and-stop fashion for well over two miles before we could see evidence of the reason for the backup. Gradually I happened upon the scene of what happened. It started with some cones to block the right lane. Then I could see gears and other moving parts, most likely from the engine or transmission of some vehicle. Finally I got a good look at the accident, which brought out several state police officers and at least one ambulance.
If my speculation is correct, one semi rear-ended another. The rear truck was bright yellow, and as I passed it was obvious that the majority of it was crushed, indicating a high-speed collision. About a quarter-mile ahead was the truck with which the yellow one collided. It was a partially crushed trailer, and there were potatoes everywhere. They were still falling out of the trailer as I passed, and the road was covered with piles of them. My biggest question was why were all of these potatoes packed into that trailer loose, and how were they loaded?
Anyway, my fellow motorists and I passed through and resumed our journeys at normal speed. I later met up with a colleague and told her that the scene reminded me of a song by the late Harry Chapin, entitled "30,000 Pounds of Bananas." Find that song online somewhere if you're not familiar, your curiosity will be rewarded. I found it on YouTube to send to my associate to close the loop on that conversation.
I was taking this colleague to the airport early Friday morning about it and just mentioned that that funny song had been rolling around in my mind ever since, and that I was pretty sure that my phone contained at least some of Harry Chapin's music. I resolved to listen to some of it if I could find it.
So after delivering her for her outbound flight, I did locate what of Chapin's music resides on my phone, and listened to about a dozen songs.
If you're in my age range (late 50's) you probably remember Harry from a periodic hit record. My limited collection from his catalogue included songs like "Cat's in the Cradle," "W O L D" and "Taxi." Chapin's music was always a story, and his songs were often too long for mid-70's pop radio. He died tragically in an auto accident in the early 80's.
I actually saw Harry Chapin in concert once, at Rupp Arena in Lexington. The show began and after the first song Harry said hello to the audience and marveled at what a big building Rupp was (and is), even saying "this is a gymnasium, right?" He then asked that the house lights be turned on and expressed dismay at the fact that some of the audience was sitting a long way from the stage. He then ordered that these people be allowed to move closer, that it was silly for them to be sitting far away. I watched as about a thousand people moved down and forward. Harry explained that "I rented this place, so they can't stop me" or something to that effect, and when he was satisfied that enough of the audience was gathered around the stage, the show resumed.
In listening to the ten or twelve of his songs that I have, I noted that the continual theme of his music is melancholy. Most of the primary characters in his songs have undergone some sort of heartache or even actual tragedy, including the obligatory lost loves but they range in other directions, too. One that I always find especially touching details a dry cleaner who loved to sing in local shows and in church, and so impressed his neighbors that they persuaded him to rent a hall in New York and make his show business debut. The critics reviewed his performance unfavorably, and he never sang in public again, but loved music and continued to sing when he was working late at night cleaning clothes in his shop. Because that's something a real person would do, and real people seemed to always inhabit Chapin's lyrics.
Anyway, I always think it's interesting that a random event like seeing the aftermath of a traffic accident (and let's hope no one was seriously injured) can lead to some resurrected memories.
Hope you have a good week.
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