Random Thoughts

Every time I hear the word “bullying”, I almost want to throw up in my mouth.

I saw this today.     check this out – http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/highschool-prep-rally/91-0-texas-football-blowout-leads-bullying-charge-101510025.html

Life is rough.   I don’t know when the idea got planted that  is should be easy, or it would be fair.     It’s not supposed to be.    Men will be husbands, and women will be wives.       We’ve all got our part of raising kids.   Sometimes I think that women are being more true to themselves then men anymore.

I remember early on:  my father told me  a story about a kid who pulled a knife on him.   He was probably 8 or 10  years old.   This was the 1940s.    He came in crying.     My grandpa told him:   “either you whip that kid or I’ll whip you”.     My father, I gotta think became a man that day.      He went out and stood up for himself, and *THAT* kid went home crying.

Now I’m not advocating whipping or telling  your kids to go get killed.   My friends know me better than that.    Its a different day and age, but I’m not sure the day and age is a better one.   Just don’t teach your kids to be pussies, or victims.     Its not what you can give them, its what they can take home for themselves.

I’m happy that my dad did his level best to teach me and my brothers how to be a man.

Great road song.    One my favorites.   John Popper owns a harmonica.

I had big plans to ride out in to Nevada this weekend and camp in the desert.   Puff a big fat expensive  cigar under the stars, and think about my week.   Reality and  responsibility ended that, at least for this weekend.   It’s all good.   Thats just how it goes.   There is still more time and I can take more degrees of cold riding before the snow flies.    I figure I got into early November for that.     I’d like to go back to Wendover NV if I can.    There’s lots of history there.   Lots to explore up here.

I don’t know anything about anything, but Ray Charles could see you don’t “wrap up a douche”.    Fuck off.

I went out to a state meeting at a neighboring chapter and crashed with some new friends at the house of an old friend.   It was pretty cool.    Had a blast.

He had a little 50 cc harley motor in his shed.    A piece of history to me, not sure what anyone else thought about it.    Back when harley was making deals, trying to make its way and stay alive.   Reminded me of this song:

Still trying to sum up last weekend.   I haven’t yet.      It was ALL good.   Every part.

I’ve typed it out a half a dozen times.   Maybe its one of those things where you’d have to see it from my perspective, but it was just good.     I’ll get years and miles out of it.

I’ll keep trying.

I’m looking forward to this weekend.    Theres  things you gotta do by day, and theres things you truly love doing.   Sometimes, the difference is like holding the wolf from the door.

Looking forward to that southern wind.   I hope I get sunburned.

Random crap I found this week:

This weekend, I’m riding down to a rally that I coordinated for a couple of years.   The vendors, the food, the bike games, the poker run, dealing with the casino management.  It’s been 3 years since I’ve been to it.  The last time I was there, it was the lowest point of my life, and it culminated, at least for me that weekend.  Shit came to a head, one Saturday night.  Shit I’m embarrassed about, but in hind sight, taught me a thing.  I haven’t been back there since.     I turned in my BACA patch not long after.

in November of 2010, I was 4 million dollars in debt from a business that had gone pretty far south.  From shit that under normal circumstances, I’d have known better.  It effected my psyche, my marriage, and definitely my self confidence.  This rally was where it came to a head, at least for me and I realized I needed to turn things around.

When my mom died in 2011, it was the start of  where I started to snap me out of it.  It was time to focus. I’m very grateful for that part.

I haven’t been back to this area since I left there, almost 2 1/2 years ago.   I just need to go back and re-do this weekend, on my own terms.   My wife doesn’t particularly  understand how much it means to me.   Maybe that’s just how men are, and women are.    We see things differently.   I need to make it right for her too.

Then its fuck all.   The last piece I kinda need to move past it, once and for all.  I’m still not out from under the decisions of that time, but I will be.    Most days, I feel pretty bullet proof.

I’m looking forward to having a whole helluva lot of fun, and reunite with some friends I truly care about.  Mostly, because I know they are my friends.

Plus its my last, major ride of the season before the snow flies.    I got some road time to sum it all up.    Hell yes.    This is a good thing.

I’ll give a full report.

Fokker out.

The smoker is fired, ribs are rubbed, and just waiting for my daughter to get home from the store so we can see who is the biggest loser:   The Steelers, or the Vikes.    They had to go to the UK to find out.

Either way, my blood is black and gold.

This is kinda funny:

Making fun of the “Affordable” care act, and Breaking Bad:   these are a few of my favorite things.      Annnnd, Raindrops on roses.

A pretty busy saturday today.   I’m just now decompressing, and having a little Zip time.

The wife and I have been doing some picking lately.   Buying low, and selling high.  It satisfies my inner greed.   We make a good team,  I enjoy the time with her, and I get to learn a thing.     I like to barter, and I’ts fun meeting people and interacting.      I’m enjoying it.   It started at the break of dawn again.

Then we dropped the youngest off at a birthday party, and had some time to scout out some antique shops.    I love the history.    So much like riding:   Any given piece has a history, and a story behind it.    It makes my mind race.       I love it.        That rotted out and rusty wagon wheel supported a family, going somewhere.     That lunch box was the pride of some kid at school.     That soldiers helmet was at the front line, of a battle I may or may not have read about.      That clock stood on someones mantle.

Our oldest daughter came home today.     We picked her up at the airport, and asked a stranger to shoot a family photo.

I couldn’t ask for better kids.    I’m a pretty lucky dude.