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If you depress easily or can't take life's realities, stop reading and go do something else. I'll be yakking about what little time we have left here on earth and how we use it.

Saw Bobo, a real good friend of mine, yesterday. He'd just come from a friends' funeral and we were talking about how we've both lost mutual friends and family members. We go back a long ways and share some pretty good times. We both share the belief that everyday is a gift and should be used to the best of our abilities. Neither of us think nothing of doing what strikes our fancy. Be it going on a road trip or just sitting outside watching the world go by. We're not barflies any more so our circle is quite small. We can count on one hand, outside of family, those people who still mean a lot to us. People who have deep ties to us. People who we'd want to deliver our eulogy, be a pallbearer, or be genuinely happy to see when we're on our last legs. These are folks we'd help in a heartbeat with no questions asked nor favors returned. These are the people who make up our core.

Unforunately we're starting to see some of them passing on before their time. Ususally we find this out in the obits too late. We'll visit their family in the usual way, at the local funeral home. Glad hand a few, hug the family and say the required things ("he sure looks natural"). He's dead! How can you look natural with a Tammy Fay baker facial? Geeze. Dressed in a suit or something other than what you wore that defined you. My brother was laid out in a fucking suit. He only wore something like that at his or a sibs wedding. He was happiest when he had jeans and flannel shirts and was hunting something. My uncle was sent off with his work clothes, a 6 pack of beer, a Readers Digest and cigars. That's who he was. Me, I want a biker t-shirt, jeans and my leather vest. That's me.

Death is a taboo subject to us. We avoid it like a gonna-get-the-shits-after-eating-this meal. We can't face our own mortality. We spend huge amounts of money to follow guidelines on how we're supposed to look and be presented as well as how our remains will be disposed of. No, we're gonna live forever...somehow. Exercise, good diets, vitamins and whatever they're hawking that we can ill afford. We try and avoid the subject as much as possible. We'd rather talk about anything else but that! But when we finally reach that point when we realize it's gonna happen then it's the only thing we want to deal with. Everything else is bullshit. We will die leaving our loved ones and true friends to remember us in their own way. Other who were co-workers and aquaintences will deal with our departure in other ways. They'll share work/personal experiences and remember us for our interaction rather than who we truly were. Only through our loved ones and true friends will we continue to live on.

This rant is probably a bit disorganized but I've never been known to be able to stay on one thought foe too long much less stringing a cognizant conversation together. But I'm sure you get the idea by now.

Value what you have in friends and family while you can. Money can buy a lot of distractions. But it can't buy love and true friendship. You gotta earn them and really work at nurturing them. Only then, when your time comes, will you be able to pass on knowing you made a difference. Or as Bobo says made your mark in the world.

Haven't been here for a while so the site has got stale. Not that it was interesting from the git go but hey, like it says on the cover.

Trying to cram a lot of riding into this year. Can't explain it but I just feel the need to go. Went to Madison last Sunday just for the day to meet some of the Road Star Project members. Put on 230 miles that day. More than I've done in a month.  Usually put on, if I'm not working, at least 50 to 80 miles a day just for shit's and giggles. But this year I feel the urge to just pound it every chance I get. maybe It's God sayin' "C'mon. c'mon. hurry it up here. We're on a schedule".  Gotta go now. The bike's cooling off.

   Attended my 40th class reunion last night. It was held at the Lazy Dog Sports bar in Kaukauna (shameless plug here). Was pleasantly surprised at the turnout mostly because some of the attendees I haven't seen since graduation. One common factor we all shared was almost instant recognition of each other. Another was our age but I won't dwell on that. It was great looking through the handout and finding out where we were all at in this stage of our lives. Some were closing in on retirement, most weren't. Most have grand kids a few didn't. Some played marriage roulette, most didn't. But everyone was happy to enjoy the time spent together.

    Some of our classmates however have passed on and we remembered them as we last knew them. never really got to know Tom. From the little contact we had he seemed kind of laid back almost to the point of shy. Guess it's my loss. John was a real jovial kind of guy with a rare sense of humor. He was pretty outgoing and great to hang with. Lenny was a bit shy. But he was a damn good fabricator. Ran into him at a bar once a long time ago. He was putting together a chopper at the time. Only wish I could have seen it. It was probably an award winner. The Sharon I knew was quiet in high school. She never really belonged to a group. She had her friends and just went about her business. Maybe someone can shed more light on this dark haired lady. In my mind I can still see them in the halls going to class, stopping to chat or sharing  a part of ourselves quietly  by the lockers.

    I had hoped a couple people from my past would be there but I guess they had other plans. If they read this they'll know who they are. Here's a hint. One is a classy lady and one is a guy I created an embarrassing moment for. 

   About it for now. I guess we'll have to see about a 45th. Till then, God willing, I'll continue to wake up each day and go from there.

   With my 40th class reunion coming at me like teen texting and driving at once I look forward to seeing faces from my youth. These might not be the ones I shared deep secrets with but they all occupy a wonderful time in my life. Regardless where your path may take you, your classmates are one of the few beacons in your life. There, I think I sucked up enough.

   Really, I'm looking forward to seeing a lot of the guys and gals again. It doesn't seem like 40 years but once I step in front of a mirror I think "maybe 60?". We've all aged and aquired a few extra everything. But we're all still the same when it comes to common bonds from our youth. Some of those we shared good time with will, for whatever reason, not be there. Those who left us early in their lives will always be fondly remembered individually. Those who chose not to join us will be cannon fodder on that night. Just kidding...maybe.

   Gonna make this short. I can always post a follow up once the reunion is over and I have more to work with. I'd like to thank Rita for trying to gather info on everyone. It's a time consuming job. I probably put down more than I should have but if the wife ain't kicked me out yet... The info might only make me sleep in the camper for a few nights. No biggie. Till then ride safe. cool

  What started out as a weekend of rafting has led my daughter Angie down a path of intense pain, a re-evaluation of her lifes priorities and a shitload of boredom and a forced hermit-like existence. Oh yeah and 4 surgeries to date.

   On August 8th of 08 she, and some buddies, were camping out at a campground/rafting outlet. That night she went for a stroll to find a bathroom. In the dark it was a grope and hope situation. Well, so much for the hope. She caught her foot on a tree root. What happened next is kinda graphic but she ended up with a compound fracture just above the ankle. She fell down a 10 foot ravine with a lot of rocks at the bottom (low river level = exposed rocky terrain). It was REAL obvious to the paramedics. What they were betting on was if she'd even keep her foot later. At one point she kind of knew that there was a serious problem with her foot but just to what extent she was unsure. Later she found out.

  After a 5 week hospital stay and 3 in a nursing facility, numerous calls to us, and me in the middle of the night at work crying because the pain meds weren't doing the job plus some real soul searching on her part, she finally was able to come home. Then the real fun began. In a hospital/nursing home environment you've got access to someone 24/7. At home you got you and whomever you can get to help. She's got one good leg to move around with, a leg that had pain of 7 or better on a 1 - 10 scale 24/7. She was taking medication that would bring down a horse for hours. Sleep was only a wish at this point. A coma would've done just fine however.

  Through it all she's managed to remain optomistic. She still intends to be walking unaided by the anniversary date of the injury (8-8-08). She's managed to be a Mom to Dakota though we kept him at our place while she deals with the pain. She's had her 4th surgery to replace the hardware and get a bone graft. This gal has had her fair share of crap.

  If you're wondering where my admiration comes into play it's in the conversations we've had since the incident. I've got 58 years behind me and some scars to prove it. She's aquired perspective at 27 that took me over twice as long to get. She ain't no philosopher or guru but her simple ways of looking a situations amazes me sometimes. Her objectivity probably comes from her re-evaluation while having nothing to do except bit a strip of leather and wait for the meds to kick in.

  They say when you're down and out you'll make a deal with almost anyone (usually God) to help see you through. Once it's over you can reneg on the deal because you weren't in full control therefore didn't know what you were doing. At least that's how we see things. Angie isn't that kind of person . For a young gal her word is like a contract. Even if it's made with a spiritual situation. You can take her at her word and if something happens to endanger her word she'll be right on top of it openly and honestly. You can trust her.

   I've dealt with all kinds of people. From high rollers to real trash. And I've found admirable people in the whole spectrum. I might be biased but I feel Angie belongs right up there at the top. You will too once you get to know her. She's one of my role models and I'm proud to be her Dad.

  As the snow starts retreating and the roads begin to clear many thoughts turn to getting the MC's ready for the upcoming runs. Mine sat dormant in the back of the garage for 3 months before I finally started work on it yesterday. Nothing major 'cause the economy has put a crimp on that one. Plus I like simplicity. The cleaner look the better. Unlike some "krom" heads I know (sorry Croppie). Anyway, it brings back to mind a Viet Nam Vet Twister run my brother, Croppie, me and another felon went on once. It almost ended with 3 of us returning.

  The 4th of our trio, whom I'll call DA, came up tp Birnamwood in his truck camper with little brudder. Me and Croppie were already there and feeling no pain. So we're ambling around the grounds checking out the general weirdness and tits waiting on the dynamic twosome. So we're waiting and drinking and drinking and wondering. A number of calls got no response and we're starting to worry ourselves sober which sucked. It's getting later in the festivities and still no click and clunk. 'What the fuck' we're thinking and saying. 

  Can't remember what time it was (it was dark, that I recall) but they finally showed up. DA gets out of the truck and rubber-legs to us. Lil bro gets out of the passenger side of the truck, slamming the door with such force it almost welds itself shut from the heat generated and flies over to DA. Grabbing DA by the shirt he proceeds to trhow him into the truck thereby rocking a 3/4 ton truck with an 11' camper on it to the point of almost going on it's side. It was then the Croppie and I figured something was amiss. My family's youngest son had a look on his face that woulda made a Marine Drill Instructor proud. I figure he had abpout 79% of the blood in his body in his face, it was that red. 

  Before he could commence dismantling DA we figured we better have an excuse for the cops as to why the body was unrecognizeable from roadkill. While I somehow managed to pry bro's vise-like grip from DA' s very wrinkled collar Croppie was able to spit out "where the fuck were you two?'. DA was just smilin' and laughing which didn't do a lot for baby brudder's disposition at the time. Finally he said 'drinkin'. Well, no shit sherlock. We kinda guessed that from the heavy whiskey smell still pouring from the open drivers door killing the grass as it fell. 'Where were you drinkin' we asked knowing that two questions in a row like that coulda caused DA's "brain" to melt down fairly quickly. But it was instinct.

  (You're gonna love this) 'At a bar' he goes. The guys' a genius, even drunk. Well my other physical half was up to about 87% blood in his face by now and starting to push me back into DA despite all the sod my feet were diggin' up trying to stay in one spot. DA just kept this goofy alcohol grin on his face which didn't help King Kong's dispostion at all.

  Finally Bro said 'this ASSHOLE (which caused partial deafness in one ear of everyone within 10 fett of us) kept going back to the same bars over and over. That's why we were so fuckin' late". Seems DA had a thing that night for hitting every bar on the way up...two or more times. Despite his oversized passengers pointed suggestions, threats and subtle innuendos (i''ll kill you if we don't get going now) DA continued on his merry pickled way regardless of concern for seeing another sunrise.  Soon he evidently reached his safe driving skills level cut-off point and decided to set course for their original destination, fortunately for him as his co-driver was well past any kind of safe rationality level.

  We did get the siamese twins unhooked from the chest area that night and made full use of the festivities. Fortunately the tittie contest was always going on so we didn't miss too much. Never saw DA ther rest of the night (few hours?) which was OK with all concerned. Just didn't need the Vets' security to "escort" us to the main gate. That woulda been undignified.

  Finally saw DA the next day and he looked worse than Arizona summertime roadkill. I just smiled. Unfrotunately, walking into the back of his camper while taking some video I was met with a lower bowel meltdown. It came at me like the tent pole from the night before. Mygod was it bad. In WW2 it was outlawed 'cause it was inhumane. And this gasbag created it naturally! The tape in the camera was yellowing. And he just smiled.

  We all lived through the weekend and DA never showed up at the Twister after that. We hit a few more but it started getting to be routine. Same faces, same bands, same tits. The Twister is still going on and if you've never been to one we highly suggest you go. Be it on 2 wheels or 4 it's a good time but be ready for a large turnout. It's gotten bigger since the 3rd annual (our 1st trip). 500 people then and roughly 3000+ now. Besides, it's for a great cause. Bring your bike or camper or car. If your money is green and in the right amount, you're in. Being a DA is your option and free.