A trucking story, --- by Harry Rudolfs
The golden age of CB
began in the mid-70s and lasted for about 10 years. Now the domain of truckers
and a few hobbyists, the radios were originally intended to be cheap,
short-range communication devices for small business operators. But there was a
time when mobile units and home bases were all the rage among the general
population.
The public's fascination with CB radio paralleled the "urban cowboy" phenomenon
and came by a curious route. In 1973, OPEC had tightened the taps on the oil
pipeline causing line ups at gas stations and fuel shortages that had never been
seen before. Then in 1975, the US pulled out of Viet Nam suffering its first
ever lost war.
In those insecure times, America needed a hero-figure and found it in the truck
driver. It made perfect sense. As the direct descendent of the
cowboy/frontiersman, the trucker personified the pioneering spirit, fierce
independence and indefatigable work ethic that had made America great.
Making the leap from cowboys to truck drivers is not difficult. Both are
close to the land and work outdoors. Truckers often call their tractors "horses"
and getting in a truck is often referred to as "getting in the saddle." And
trucking is not that dissimilar from cow punching because much of it involves
herding trailers into and out of huge corrals. Lastly, truckers even dress like
cowboys.
North America has always had a love/hate relationship with truck
drivers. But in the late 70s the romance was at its coziest. "Trucking also has
a dramatic quality which has served as an image for popular entertainment," says
sociologist/trucker Lawrence J. Ouellet in his book, Pedal to the Metal. "The
combination of travel, danger, mystery, the potential for adventure... suggests
the existence of heroic qualities."
And heroic is what Hollywood gave us. Within a few years, four trucker movies
and a TV series (Movin' On) caught the masses' attention. Nashville helped
promote the image by producing a number of trucker/CB songs that moved up and
down the charts.
The film with the most profound impact was Convoy. The movie's signature tune,
"Rubber Duck" by C. W. McCall, features a narrative track that mimics CB chatter
and shortwave static. The song and movie tell the story (supposedly based on a
real incident) about an incongruous group of truckers who find strength by
banding together to defy a wicked bureaucracy that is stacked against them.
Overnight, CB sales shot up
astronomically and specialty stores opened in strip malls. CB aerials and whip
antennas appeared on cars and a network of clubs formed across the country.
Signs were put up on Canadian and US Highways announcing that the authorities
were monitoring channel 9 and communications centers were installed in some
police stations.
Channel 19 became known as the
truckers' channel. The designation changes to Channel 1 east of Quebec and some
western truckers use also use 1. French speaking truck drivers gravitated to
channel 10 in Quebec and 12 in Ontario.
Tom Jones was working as a radio inspector for the Dept of Communications in
Regina, Sask. when the CB craze hit. "It was unbelievable," he says. "We went
from issuing about ten licences a week to about 300 a day. And that was the
people who were applying for licences, who knows how many weren't bothering."
The association of CBs and trucking brought with it a rich terminology that was
unique to the subculture--trucker talk. People now had their "ears on" when they
were using a radio. A cop with a radar gun became "Smokie Bear taking pictures."
An elaborate system of "ten" codes (originally developed for police officers)
was adopted, some of which remain in common use today. "Ten-four" has come to
indicate an affirmative response, and "What's your twenty?" is understood to be
an inquiry about one's present location.
The signs on the highway have
been gone for ten years or more. The communications centers have been taken
down, and public interest in Citizen’s Band has dwindled.
But truckers are talking on the air as much as ever. "I've been using a CB for
thirty years and I'm still using it the same way I did when I started," says
Roger, a shunt man at the Triple Crown Railyard in Toronto.
Roger (CBers are reluctant to give out full names over the air) sets his radio
on Channel 19 and uses it as a dispatch tool. He can talk to other drivers and
tell them where to drop their trailers and where to pick up their outbound
loads.
More importantly, he sees the CB as a safety accessory. "My first time on the
road in 1972, I got a call that there was a truck across the QEW at a curve on
the way St. Catharines," says Roger. "Without hearing about it on the radio I
would have hit him."
"It's a useful tool no doubt about it." says Constable Doug Fenske, a former
truck enforcement officer with the Aurora OPP detachment.
All the truck
enforcement cruisers in the Toronto area are equipped with CBs. Fenske has
occasionally used one to stop trucks. "Instead of putting on the lights we can
go on the air and ask them to pull over."
Officer Bettina Schwarze ("Goldielocks")
of the Brighton OPP has been using a CB for the last 8 years. She's found the
radio to be helpful in critical situations. In one instance drivers called her
about wrong way vehicle. "If it hadn't been for Big Iron and couple of other
drivers who pulled over and relayed messages, I'd have lost him."
At other times truckers with radios have helped her shut down the highway or
blocked the shoulder so an impaired driver couldn't flee. "I’ve got three home
bases in my area. If someone wants to get a message to me, Bam Bam or Hawaiian
punch will provide land lines," she says.
Schwarze, who has an AZ licence and occasionally drives truck herself, has a
great rapport with truckers who regularly hail her as they pass through the
area. "It's so important to be able to talk to someone," she says. "Sometimes
they're just talking because of the sheer boredom."
Ham radio enthusiast Paul Denby agrees that trucking is the perfect niche for CB
radio frequencies. "You’re not going to pick up your cell phone and call the
truck in front of you. But for $100 you can walk into any truck stop and get a
pretty decent set that will allow you to talk to the people around you."
Truckers use CB for a variety of reasons. The have an almost obsessive
interest in the location of police cruisers and road conditions, but much of the
chatter concerns day-to-day working activities. Drivers talk about their
equipment, the loads they are hauling, and complain
about their bosses and fellow drivers. At
times the radio is a diversion to stay awake on a long haul.
Some commerce does occur over the CB, much of it illicit. I've overheard
operators in truck stops selling televisions and once a even a hand gun.
Less-than-reputable massage parlors in the southern US states will use women
broadcasters to lure drivers to their establishment (like the Sirens tempting
Ulysses).
Occasionally a driver
will strike up a friendship with someone on the radio and then meet up with them
later. Better let sociologist/trucker Oullet handle this: "... a woman told us
by CB radio (two of us were on the same run) that she spotted our trucks while
we were taking a break, waited for us to finish and then followed us onto the
freeway where she began exposing herself to us. This woman said she was
attracted to truckers, especially tanker drivers."
Much of trucker slang is playful, poetic, ironic, sometimes self-deprecating,
and often naughty or crude. It is a cartoon world full of cartoon images. A
driver may refer to his own rig as "a bucket of bolts." A passing ambulance may
be described as "a meat wagon in the hammer lane." Log books are often called
"swindle sheets" or "comic books," while "chicken coop" has come to replace
inspection station in truckers' lingo.
An empty load might be described as a
load of "post holes," "sailboat fuel" or "dispatcher brains." A restaurant could
be called a "chew n' choke" or worse.
"Good Buddy," which was once a term of camaraderie between two drivers has come
to mean homosexual. "Coin operated beaver" or "lot lizard" are slightly
pejorative labels that are applied to female prostitutes. A deconstructionist
would have a field day this symbolism. The imagery for non-spousal women is
based on animals, while wives are usually referred to as mama, as in "I'm going
home to chase mama around the house."
French CB chatter appears to be as colorful as the English variety. A bear on
the side taking pictures is "police avec un Kodak sur le cote." 10-4 is often
translated as "zero-quatre." And French truckers have substituted the ursine
"bear" monicker with the peccarial "couchon."
Over the years some attempts has been made to clean up the airwaves. The most
famous case occurred in 1998 when a trucker was charged with using "superfluous
and obscene language" by the Broadview, Sask. RCMP. The charges were eventually
discharged by the judge, largely because CB operators did not need to be
licensed after 1987.
Tom Jones of the Spectrum Management Branch of Industry Canada admits that the
frequencies are wide open for anyone to abuse. "You can turn off the set," he
says. "But realistically there's very little that can be done. If someone's
being a real nuisance we will go around and talk to them."
Jones' department will respond, however, with the full weight of the law if they
receive complaints about overpowered sets. Canadian and US specifications
require that CB transceivers operate on no more than 4 Watts AM power. "All CB
radios have to meet that standard," he says. "99% of our complaints are about
linear amplifiers," he says. Usually what happens is they start knocking out all
the TV sets on the block. We will take action on those complaints and shut them
down if we have to."