My Dad Drove In Convoy 2000
And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt
This Shameless Promotional Pitch is brought to you by the Convoy 2000 Information Page, your one-stop web site for all things Convoyish.
Do you have enough t-shirts? Check your dresser drawer or closet right now; we'll wait here.
[Tap, tap, tap...]
Not enough, right? And that Metallica one is looking a bit faded, isn't it? Well now for a limited time you can own a genuine, unfaded, guaranteed to cover your upper body, 100% wool-free Convoy 2000 T-shirt! That's right! The one and only official t-shirt of the 25th anniversary Convoy coast-to-coast trip. One size fits all (it comes in extra large only, so if it doesn't fit, you need to exercise)! And it carries the official Convoy 2000 logo, complete with a map of the trip (well, sorta)!
So don't delete, buy today! 'Cause when these t-shirts are gone, there ain't a-gonna be no more! At $11.95, they're a steal! Send check or money order to
T A Chafin
4753A Westland Blvd
Arbutus, MD 21227-1332
Further details can be found on the Convoy 2000 "What's Available" Page.
Get something to show your kids! Get something to show your grandkids! Lord it over your drinking buddies with the t-shirt that's guaranteed to prove that you know a great t-shirt when you see it!
And remember, there's only 22 days until Convoy 2000!
Packin' It In
With two weeks remaining, it's time that you start seriously preparing for Convoy 2000. For your convenience, here's a handy checklist:
- Make sure that you've got enough clean underwear for the journey; the only skidmarks that you see should be on the pavement.
- Bring a couple a' quarts of oil. You never know.
- Ditto on the jumper cables.
- Cool shades. Ray-Bans are good, Oakleys are terrific. Skip the Foster Grants though; they're so '60s.
- Lots of change and dollar bills. You are a-gonna pay some tolls.
- Fix that outside rear-view mirror. Yeah, you know the local yokels well enough to pass, but you do want to be able to see them alien bears comin' up from behind.
- Hat. Ball cap or western-style (cowboy) are preferred. Berets will be ridiculed.
- 40-channel CB radio. If you don't have this, then you'd better stay home.
Weather Or Not
On a more serious note, please be aware that although the schedule for Convoy 2000 has been made with the knowledge of possible traffic delays, we can't anticipate everything.
In the past few weeks, there's been flooding in Missouri, west of St. Louis, but it hasn't affected I-44. And in New Mexico, the fire at Los Alamos is far north of our route. So barring anything unusual — and that includes tornadoes (you did know that we'd be driving through Tornado Alley, didn't you?) — the trip ought to be uneventful, as far as the driving goes.
Now I-80 through northwest Indiana is always a crawl, but there's nothing we can do about that.
Song A’ Th’ Week
How to Operate Your CB Radio
- Turn it on. No, use the button/knob/whatever. Sweet talk ain't gonna work on 'lectronics.
- Pick a channel. 19 will do, to start.
- Turn the squelch knob counterclockwise (lefty) until the annoying static stops.
- Then follow the advice in the song below.
(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis)
From the album
YEE-HAW! Merciful sakes alive! You wanna be one a' them CBers, you gonna learn how to ratchetjaw! Pay attention now; I'm only gonna explain it to ya once.
You gotta go runnin' amuck in a pick-'em-up truck
With one a' those fancy sidebands?
Get four-on-the-floor and two on the door
Get a power mike in yer jaw-hand
Prepare to strike when ya key the mike
'Cause ya never know who's a-listenin'
Some clown insists on a 10-36
This here's what you give 'im:
"Four, good buddy, I made me a study
An' I figger it's the dark a' the moon, son
It's half-past spring an' a quarter ta fall
An' the big hand's a-settin' on noon, son
Now if the fish don't bite and the almanac's right
And the groundhog sees his shadow
A 10-36 goes tick-tock-tick."
And that's what I call ratchetjaw!
Gotta git ya a base, out there at yer place
With a forty-foot pole on the chimney
With a thousand watts in yer flowerpots
And a ree-mote line in the biffy
If ya feel a twitch when ya throw the switch
Ya gonna dim all the lights in Wichita
Gonna send out a wave ta make the government rave
And this here's whatcha tell 'em all:
"Yeah, four, good buddy, yer comin' in cruddy
But yer walkin' right through my wall, boy
Yer carrier's cool, you makin' me drool
You were definitely battin' my ball, boy
You hittin' me round about fifteen pound
You cut me up like a bandsaw
But what the heck, it's just a radio check."
And that there's how to ratchetjaw
[CB conversations. They're overlaid, as if you're listening to a party line.]
[Woman's voice] Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker. We lookin' for that one Buffalo Roy out there. Buffalo Roy, what's your twenty? Where are you anyway, Buffalo Roy? Are you out there? Come on in there, Buffalo Roy. 10-4.
[Man's voice] Lissen, you. Shut up on all them breakers. One breaker's enough. [words missing]...channel all the time. Can't hear a damn thing anybody's sayin'.
[C.W.] Buffalo Roy? That's a dumb handle.
Wanna feel some pain? Just turn up yer gain
Get a fearful earful a' garbage
Ta suppress a belch, just hit yer squelch
You can cut out all the carnage
You wanna have fun, you son-of-a-guns
Just get on the press-ta-talk switch
You gonna amuse 'em an' really confuse 'em
With a little ol' thing called ratchetjaw
Yeah, let them suckers think yer a trucker
Say stuff they can't understand, son
Just bounce up-an'-down while yer toolin' around
Gonna sound like a truck-drivin' man, son
Just tell yer beaver that you gonna leave 'er
You catch her on the bounce-around
If she comes back with a smart-off crack
Say "X-Y-L, it's show-an'-tell. We definitely got us to go now.
Keep yer pants on honey, hang onto the money
Yer X-Y-M's gotta blow now
Eighty-eight, thirds, and feed my bird
An' all them numbers upon ya all
If speed don't kill, then CB will."
And that's what I call ratchetjaw
[More CB conversations.]
Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, [repeated almost ad infinitum, punctuated by bouts of laughter]
[Man's voice. Begins deep, slowly rising to Shirley and Squirrely squeakiness.] Yeah, 10-4, we got ya, breaker. Come back on that? Say, what kind a'... s'not? some kind a' cotton-pickin'... you puttin' me on, aren't cha? Yeah, you puttin' me on, aren't cha? [Laughter] 10-4. 10-4.