This came out yesterday. My California Brothers. Tombstone and Bikerdad are solid guys, and proud to call em brothers. I’ve ridden with em and partied with them, and honor their commitment to the cause.
The last couple of days I’ve kept thinking of a line in the movie “the blind side”, where they were talking about the misfit, but now pro football player Michael Oher (who’s a Baltimore Friggin Raven, but we can go over that later). The quote is: ”You should really get to know your players. Michael scored in the 98th percentile in protective instincts.”
I’ve seen the guys that come and go in B.A.C.A. Some stick, some don’t. Protective Instincts huh? I think some guys are born to wear the patch, and when they see it, they’re in it for life.
I’m proud to be a member of Bikers Against Child Abuse. We mean what we say. Don’t fuck with our kids.
My oldest daughter is just a good kid. She’s working her way though college, and she called us when her car wouldn’t start at the car wash. Somebody helped her bump start it, and she got it back to her college dorm.
I called a B.A.C.A. brother down there Just to ask him if he’d take a look. He did. I don’t think the guy took a half an hour, and he called me and told me it was her starter. Bad Bendix.
Then another B.A.C.A. brother jumped in, and offered to change it for her. I ordered the part, he picked it up and put it in for her.
I’m a pretty prideful person. Asking for help is not my M.O. . I want to thank you 2 guys for being there for my family. You know who you are…
I’m proud to be a member of B.A.C.A. For what we do for kids, but also what we do for each other. Yeah man… Brotherhood. I owe ya. I’ll pay ya back.
Somehow, I always seem to find my way back to this one. Man, what a masterpiece.
Great Song. Sent to me by a friend. Never heard it, but I get it.
I’ma gonna find me some long side road on a map, that leads me to some proud little side town, out in the middle of no where. One of those towns where main street is 100 yards long. Park the bike. Ask the questions, and drink in the history. I’ve kind of learned to spot em.
I can almost see it now, And to me, its a beautiful thing.
Strike up a conversation with a long time local old guy, who’s knows his town. They’re always willing to tell you their stories if you ask right, and the stories are always good, when you pay attention. Eat at the local greasy spoon. Spend a couple of hours, watch people go by.
I’ll wonder how I’ll get home by Sunday night, Buy a tank of gas even if I don’t need it, just because I feel like I’m helping out a local economy that needs a buck or two.
Then, kick up a foot peg, Twist the throttle and play the Rolling Stones while I think about what I just learned.
The next town is 30 more miles.
Surfing around youtube, and found this. It still makes me laugh. Jane, you Ignorant Slut:
Ice is off the road for the most part, and I’ve taken the bike for a few putts around the neighborhood. I can’t wait till its all off, and I can make miles somewhere. These are the worst months of the year thataway. I really would enjoy a good long ride somewhere.