Friday, June 23, 2006

Full Trucker Effect

It is no secret that I am a serious bitch for Sirius satellite service. The massive array of always-available news, sports, music, talk and entertainment, streaming uninterrupted from outer space down to my dashboard is luxurious in its scope, convenience and value.

$12 per month. That's it. For LESS than the cost of sponsoring two children in Guatemala, you too can have commercial-free music and FCC-free Howard Stern in your home, office or automobile.

Howard and his crew have been on total freaking fire since moving to Sirius in January. However, the wickedness has reached a fever pitch in the last few days, nearly causing me to swerve off the road in fits of laughter.

It's not just Howard, though. No, it's also Bubba. Bubba: The Love Sponge. Florida-native body-builder buddy of Hulk Hogan, NASCAR driver, trucker fetishist, shock-happy sadistic Thrillbilly. Bubba was once fined heavier than Howard, and fired from his southeastern regional radio network. In an attempt to fill his two satellite stations, Howard gave Bubba the east coast drive-time show on Howard 101 (leaving mere scraps for the west coast).

Bubba now has a nationwide audience, and his show has exploded. It's genius. Even I, while being the furthest distance from his demographic, am hooked. The bulk of his audience, though, seem to be truckers. Bubba celebrates the niceties of trucker culture, which he refers to as the "Full Trucker Effect." It's even the title of his theme song.

Sirius is ideal for truckers if you think about it. The seamless streaming signal is everywhere. It follows them where they need to be. There is no longer any need to search for stations as they cross from state to state.

It was, therefore, no surprise when I found, while surfing the higher-end spectrum of Sirius stations, that there is an all-trucker station: Sirius 147, Road Dog.

All trucker, all the time: trucker music, trucker news, trucker talk. Nationwide weather and traffic. Truck-centric product sponsors.

This is a perfect marriage. Truckers have always been synonymous with radio. They were pioneers in the development and use of CB. However, they were not the only ones...

I was 8 years old, and on a camping trip with my grandparents and my great grandmother. My Grandfather's rig was the vanguard. He always lead the train, followed my his cadre of camping buddies from the church. His CB was strapped to the dashboard, and he would san the channels for road conditions. Occasionally, he would quietly issue orders into the mic, and the caravan of campers would follow his lead.

I, on the other hand, used the CB to read jokes from my joke books to the masses. I was 8, so you can imagine...

We eventually found ourselves stopped in front of the Ranger station, and my grandparents were outside, futzing with their reservations. My doddering great grandmother snored in the back seat. The radio was on, and the mic lay in my lap.

"Breaker Breaker, blah blah blah..." came the voice of a gravely road pilot through the radio. There were others too. They were having an interstate conversation.

Now, I knew from my joke book experience that pushing the button opened the mic, and jammed the frequency. So, obviously, I pushed and held the button for several seconds. Then I released it, and listened for the immanent response.

"Who the fuck is leaving their mic open??" My great grandmother stirred in the back seat. That seemed to get their attention. So, I pushed it again, longer this time.

I pushed it fast. I pushed it slow. Dots. Dashes. Rhythms. Pulses. All the while the venom and anger was spittering and sputtering through the transmission breaks. Foul evil language, the type of words you only heard on playgrounds. I never expected adults to know such words.

I felt powerful. I felt sneaky. My great grandmother slowly roused herself to semi-wakefulness.

"What in tarnation is this gibbering all about? Oh my! What language! You, you, you shouldn't be hearing this. I can't believe such filth is allowed on the radio!"

I grinned, passively to myself. I was the cause in fact of the commotion. I took private pleasure in the vitriolic responsive transmissions.

The next hour was filled by my grandmother being lectured by her mother about the devilishly inappropriate radio show they left on while they stepped out. (She didn't quite grasp the CB concept.) I simply stared quietly out the window at the passing truckers, wondering whether we would pass the purple faced jackass that let an 8-year old get his goat.

(Sirius is offering a three-day free-trial of it's online service. This service now includes live streaming feeds of Howard 100 and Howard 101)

Reading for Comprehension.
1. That was one long-ass blog post, did you read the whole goddamn thing, or did you just skip to the end?
2. Have you, or anyone that you know, ever had sex in the sleeper cab of a big rig?
3. Bubba uses the phrase "shock the balls," what does this phrase mean to you?


  1. After reading that the only thing I can think of right now is getting punched in the balls by a blonde with big tits.

  2. 1. Skipped to the end - lorries *shudder*
    2. Wouldn't you like to know
    3. Bloody American summat or other..

  3. My mom's CB handle was "Big Red."

  4. everybody's mother's handle was big red...

  5. Be careful to not shock your deal with that mcgillicudy.I have the Ned Only CD. Sometimes you're so much like me it's scary...

  6. Ha ha! Yes, I too tortured the interlopers of the interstate. My self-dubbed handle was Pizza Face (I was thirteen although not as blemished as it would sound). I would torment the truckers traveling towards Albany or Portland as they passed by the Sunnyside Rd exit in South Salem. I was a mere two miles from the exit and at times threatened by the truckers as they were forced to hear my drivel. One time though - the last time - I was really razzing this one guy and he started saying things to the effect of: "I'm approaching the Sunnyside exit and the His signal is getting stronger ... I'm gonna turn off and follow it ... I think I have a fix on where he's broadcasting from ... "

    Immediately the CB went off, hid under the bed in fact, and my cousin and I cowered on the floor of his bedroom, peering through a slit in the blinds, expecting any minutre for a big rig to come barreling down the gravel road that led to our meager little farm... After that, my voice on the airwaves would never be heard again... and the world was a much happier place!

  7. We all profanity. Its kinda like hearing a sultry chick say our names. I get my fix from watching
    Deadwood on HBO. Being the rainman that I am, I have started counting the fucks and cock-suckers. Last
    night's episode had 74 fucks and 13 cock suckers. ....Of course I'm an excellent driver....

  8. How ironic. I look around Los Angeles, and all I see are cocksuckers.

  9. Deadwood is the greatest television show of all time, cocksucker.


Be compelling.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.