A Flagman Along the Highway
a conversation...
My 20-something-year-old friend Alayna and I drove to a small rural town I’m not going to name for a meeting on Wednesday. We met at a Smokey Row in a nearby small town I’m also not going to name to coffee up for the road. Our destination was a little over an hour and a half away from Knoxville.
On our way, we were met by road construction signs and a flagman with a stop sign. I slowed and stopped. There was only one car ahead of us, and the flagman approached.
I rolled down my window and he said, “There will be about a ten-minute wait.”
He was a tall and nice-looking man in his thirties is my guess. Alayna tells me he had a high fade combover haircut in style now for younger men.
“Okay,” I replied. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
“Beautiful!” he said.
He was good-natured, and we engaged in a conversation about where he was from, who he worked for, why he liked his work, where he has traveled, the per diem that he gets when he is out of town, and more.
I asked him if he liked birds, and he laughed and said something about how he was surrounded by them all day, and that it would be hard to avoid them.
I showed him my Merlin bird call app. In a short time, Merlin identified a house sparrow, a common yellowthroat, a robin, red-winged blackbirds, and a Baltimore oriole. That’s what I do. Show it to people. I love the app so…
“What’s that app called again?”
“Merlin”.
“Cardinals. You know Cardinals?” He asked.
“Yes.”
“I see them all of the time. Prettiest bird but the worst song ever. Worst bird song ever. I see eagles a lot too, but I don’t hear their call.
“I hear eagles,” I said. They have a short shrill call. I thought about imitating it but then decided against it.
“Hah!” he laughed, “I was hoping you would try to imitate it!”
“Better not,” I said.
Watching him standing there in the full sun, I said, “You need a hat. When you are my age you’ll wish you had worn a hat. You like your ears, don’t you? If you are in the sun all day forever you might get cancer on them and you don’t want that—that’s the Dad and Grandpa in me talking.”
He laughed, and said, “Well, Dad and Grandpa, I can tell you which assisted living homes to think about or avoid if you want. I used to work at several.”
I laughed and said, “I’m not going into an assisted living home—I couldn’t handle all of the old ladies hitting on me all of the time. Besides, the sheriff knows where to find my body when that time comes.”
“I enjoyed working in assisted living, but the pay wasn’t any good, and it was tough watching people that you like die. Plus, it’s too expensive. Just take a long cruise; it will be cheaper.”
“What’s the most fun part of this job?” I asked. He paused, looked at me, and then at Alayna, probably wondering what she might think about what he was about to say. He decided it would be OK to answer me.
“All the boobies,” he said.
Alayna and I both laughed, and I said, “Really?”
“Yes,” he replied." “Boobies, boobies, boobies all the time. That’s the best.”
“Women show me their boobies…”
“What else?” I asked.
“People give me things.”
“Like what?”
“A lady in an RV made me a sandwich once. But mostly beer, lots of beer. Energy drinks, and water but I always feel guilty about the water.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because some fish somewhere might need it.”
We all laughed.
“Because fish don’t drink beer?”
He thought about it and said, “Don’t know—never tried to give a fish a beer.”
“Do you drink the beer?”
“Sure,” he said, “when there aren’t any cars or trucks around, I’ll have a sip or two.”
“How many beers over a day?”
“It’s a 12-hour day, and having four or five beers doesn’t bother me.”
“What if someone gave you whisky?”
“Drink whiskey on the job? No way. I have to drive the pilot truck.”
“What else?”
“Weed. People give me weed, but I don’t take it. You can’t really hide weed and everyone smells it on you.”
“What’s a farmer say when he can’t find his tractor? he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Where’s my tractor?
Lots of laughter.
“What’s a giraffe have that no other animal has?”
“I don’t know.”
“Baby giraffes!”
More laughs.
“Some people say long necks, but swans have long necks too.”
“What’s the thing you see most that you never thought you would see?”
“Old boobies,” he said. “Never thought I would see so many old boobies.”
I hope you liked this one. About a year ago I shared some other conversations I had with other flaggers. If you enjoyed that one, you will enjoy that one too: Flag People along the Highway: conversations.
If you would like to learn about how a Knoxville High School student sees the world, check out K. L. Orion. Thoughtful and analytical, he has built a compelling body of work. He’s been writing his column for nearly a year now, and he just keeps getting better and better. Please consider subscribing, and if you can afford it, please consider a paid subscription. We need more people like K. L. Let’s encourage him. Be a part of his team. Our team. Without you, dear reader, all of us are keyboarding into the void. I don’t have the words to tell you how important you are. Thanks for supporting us! We need you. Thank you!
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You are easily amused. I think being so is the secret of finding joy in every day events where others just find annoyance. One does not need to be seen as important to have a very satisfactory life. A good reporter can find out oodles more than others only imagine from looking at a person's outward appearance.
Robert, This is Jack Kerouac quality issue.
I was always distracted by the signs on the lower left corners of trailers of semi-trucks advising "Knee inspection 70 feet ahead!" which I thought was pretty risqué. I usually tried to control Cherie's innate exhibitionism by calling attention to the non-existent deer herd to the left or even throwing something into her lap--OK, I am a jealous lover!
But, Boobies!? The flagman must have been a pretty hot guy to get this recurrent treat on a random road--had this been in the midst of RAGBRAI it would be routine, but within 90 minutes of Albia in May?
But I am mainly (sure I am!) commenting to echo the need for sun protection. Iowa farmers once provided our Iowa dermatologists with an easy annuity but with the introduction of tractor cabs a generation ago the Iowa derm guys now need to make an honest living. Our residual sun-worshippers need to appreciate that solar dermatitis is irreversible, deadly and can only be prevented from an early age.