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Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Loading Dock Sailor.

Call me Ishmael.

Do you ever wonder about genetics and how they determine each persons logos?

I was born in California, the City of Angels to be exact, but my family extracted me from there early in life and brought me to the Midwest.

Being landlocked seemed to go against Klecko's disposition. As a young man, while I'd drift off to sleep I often times tried to force my dreams into taking place on tropical Islands. Exotic locations filled with treasure and women that resembled the "Bobble Hula Girl" that was attached to the dashboard of my Grandfathers Lincoln.

To my dismay.....my dreams were never realized, instead my sleeping mind would be occupied with surreal imagery of me burning oven loads of bread, or on racy nights I'd be accused of a murder I didn't commit and "Dream Klecko" would be forced to live on the lamb.

The Apostle Luke (Dr. Luke) often filled his Gospel with details of the ship, and nautical procedures that took place while he and Christ were on their world tour.

If the Ocean is in your blood, it is hard to renounce....even if you live in Minnesota.

I think that might be why I have always loved hanging around loading docks. If you live in a city that doesn't have a port, the loading dock is your next viable venue.

Touring a city in a bread truck can be kinda gypsy in so many ways. Over the years I have been in every single building of importance in my city, and almost never has Klecko gone through the front door LOL.

Typically when I find a stadium, casino, warehouse or hotel....I look for the garbage dumpster.

Wherever there is a dumpster, you can bet that there is a door within 20 feet. This is the entrance a baker is expected to use.

The few first times I went under the Metrodome,Target...or X-Cel Centers, I got such a kick out of it.

Usually you have to drive threw a security check point, but then after that...the journey begins.

Typically you'll have to drive over ramps and through dark tunnels that totally give you the feeling that you are in the digestive track of Jonah's whale.

These spaces are almost never lit that well, but the absence of light isn't what frightens you. The thought of attackers lurking behind concrete pillars isn't even a consideration.

The part that trips me out the most is simply being in such an enormous structure, and having an opportunity to explore such a massive area alone. You honestly feel as if you are in a dragons lair under some huge mountain.

The loading dock is the one point of this solitude where blue collar people from across the country congregate.

Some concepts have one dock, while others have many, but irregardless of how many drop stations are provided.....wherever you smell the fumes of a idling semi truck, you can bank that there will be stories both fantastic and pathetic within earshot.

Let me put it like this, in all the years I have lugged promo's or humped orders into these monolithic concepts, I've never heard anybody on the docks making reference to last evenings viewing schedule on PBS.

You'll seldom hear words like DISCIPLE - CHARITY - CHIHUAHUA or MUSLIM.....

Dock workers typically won't debate America's involvement with Israel,form opinions on the Trans Fat ban, or debate which documentary should have won the Oscar.

In simplest terms....there is no sympathy underground.

The guys (and woman) on the docks are harding working, fast paced people who have never slowed down long enough to become attached to culture of political correctness.

On the streets, and in the sunshine I seldom hear ethnic slurs or well thought out plans on how some A-Hole in receiving was going to be murdered....but under the soil almost anything is fair game.

I know this sounds neanderthal, maybe because it is, but when you listen to the guys from Bama hauling Melons or that old guy from Tempe who will be fishing for swordfish at the end of his next run......

It's kinda hard to not to romanticize their lives and their journeys, maybe insight and intellect just are tools that are not staples of the wandering rouge.

In hind sight, I guess that's why portions of their journey seems so appealing to me..... If you can't be fortunate to live on a huge body of water, maybe the next best thing is sailing the voids of the asphalt jungle.

1 comment:

  1. Its a whole other world isnt it...I love characters, I love people with stories to tell. I could sit and listen for hours.

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