Monday, December 31, 2007

Happy Last Day of 2007!

And I must say, I am not displeased to see this year end. It was a turbulent year in my life, full of ups and downs; highs and lows. But it certainly ended on a high-note.

This weekend, the last of the year, I attended a session of the Basic Rider Course, put on by the Motorcycle Safety Foundation and the College of Southern Nevada. The two instructors, Larry Loyd and Rod Hahn were great. They taught the basics in a way that was gentle to the riding noob, while emphasizing the importance of doing things right. Bad judgment and lack of skill for a particular situation can be deadly, especially in turns and traffic.

Riding in the early morning Las Vegas air was chilly. Saturday and Sunday both started in the mid 30's. After moving around a bit on the bike, the coldness just seemed to fade away.

Saturday riding was fun. I discovered that I REALY liked the weaving exercises. REALLY! I was weaving in & out like nobody's business! Third gear seemed like it would be fun, but that might have been too much...

Sunday morning was more range and practice time. Fast swerving around an obstacle. Oh my. I can swerve without thinking on my Rebel, but here on this little Nighthawk, my brain just seemed to cramp up. Then there were other things that started to tick me off. The bike would skip into neutral on it's own some times. I would forget the kill switch when starting. I only turned the fuel valve partially on once. I was overly heavy on the rear brake and not heavy enough on the front brake.

I was frustrated. All of the exercises I completed were ok after a few runs, but things simply were not clicking like Saturday.

Practice over. Break time. Larry and Rod briefed us on the practice; we were doing well and about two hours ahead of schedule. While we went to the restrooms, smoked, whatever, they would set up the range for the skills test. I was first in line.

Test one – The figure-eight-in-a-box. Previously I had dropped my foot twice out of about six practice runs. I was a little nervous. What the hell. I go for it. NOT a problem. No dropped feet or bike; no wheels over the line. YEA!

Next was the avoidance swerve. After practicing the thing about two dozen times that morning, I aced it.

Third test was the fast stop. Lost three points for not stopping soon enough. Analysis: On my Rebel, the front brakes are quite strong. It doesn't take much front to stop it. So on the Nighthawk I had for the test, the front was a little weak and the rear grabby. So, I skidded the rear. Oh well. That's just three points.

Next was the 130 degree turn. It was timed. Aced that puppy, but then again, I like the curves! Even ground the foot pegs on the Nighthawk a couple of times in practice!

So, in my pocket is a little piece of paper that instructs the DMV to give me a license with a motorcycle endorsement! That is one helluva way to finish off 2007!!!

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Burn-Out

Last Saturday I was spending a little 'alone' time, simply e-baying and writing and so forth. I open Chapter 3 of Blood and Snow and start in with my little brain dump. As luck or fate or karma or whatever would have it, my brain dump stalled. I just stopped. Like someone threw a switch somewhere; broke the circuit. I wonder... Is the end of a life like that? Like someone throwing a switch?

burnout – from dictionary.com

  1. a fire that is totally destructive of something.

  1. Also, burn-out. fatigue, frustration, or apathy resulting from prolonged stress, overwork, or intense activity.

Life burn-out. I am just tired of so many things. Burn-out is probably the best definition. At work, I know I am capable but things really don't hold my interest. I used to be a 'go-getter'. Now, if I am done and there is nothing apparent to do, I will just surf the web or do something non-productive. That is SO not like me. I like productivity; doing something that has a goal.

I look at a problem and know I can solve it. A little voice somewhere whispers 'WHY?' That little voice is intruding on several parts of my life, it would seem. Perhaps, just perhaps... that little voice will not like the solitude of the open road.

However, I have a sneaking suspicion it will take more than an afternoon ride to rid my brain of that voice. It has been with me for quite some time. At times, his little apathetic 'WHY' is warm and comforting. Maybe that is a peek into my own apathy; my own depression.

For my sake, I need a solution. Not a band-aid or temporary fix; a solution.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

My Daughter Has Great Musical Tastes...

Some days I wonder where the youth of today are headed. I doubt many.

Then I see something, hear something like this and I am assured in my soul that the future is in good hands.

Thank you, Bri.

---The Frey - How to Save a Life---
Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life
How to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Saturday Night Thoughts...

Special note: I have had a few drinks... nuff said.

It sucks when you loose a friend for what ever the reason.

I am SO broke. I promised my daughter she would be signed up for the classes she needs to graduate, before Christmas break. I couldn't pay for it... not enough money because I was stupid enough to loan my ex enough to fix her car. Now, not only can't I pay for her school, but I can't buy her Christmas gift - A new keyboard..

Can't pay credit cards, can't pay the regular bills. My truck broke down early December and had to spend $700 or so. Well, didn';t have to. did

Was moving out a week ago. No go. Not enough money. Still here

Here indefinite

Jitter... Sad... Must move on.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Blood and Snow - Chapter 2

And here is chapter two from my brain-dump. As this is flowing from brain to keyboard, it seems I have seven chapters in total. I'm not asking, and my gray matter isn't telling. :-) So... Here is two-of-seven...

Bulldog slumbers and smiles, his friends laughing and playing in this mortal universe; mortal but immortal. Need.

Friend honor betrayal. I make happy. Battle within not without, I fail; loose for my strip of recursive iteration. Paper. Judge. It is done.

Friend and mate walk away to the shade of an oak. Marlow and I subsist. Cookies of grain. I work and learn and fail; more school to be a notch up. Up. A thrown wine bottle, night, green park and smoke.

Twist. Hot sweaty nights in my cave. Universe dark from my own blanket of depression and honest understanding. Poke and prod for light and I see through a tunnel but resist, comfortably warm in my blanket.

And there she is. Embodied lust to illuminate. My world is bright while dark matter and orbiting rocks remain at bay; stable but unstable; waiting for the fateful; the inevitable.

Quickly jump my dear frog. Electrode to muscles I push the buttons, hand held by another. I enjoy and am consumed by this new universe. Twisting beautifully into a spiral galaxy. Beauty in the chaos.

Twist and conjoin and lustfully consume. Wait! Slow! Too soon! No! Hold On! Plans and hopes scream! They fall asleep; inattention. Red banners pushed to the periphery.

Warm in my new blanket I revel in the possibilities. I am desired. Plans and another carriage. We join under the darkness of privacy and another mortal paper is signed in watercolor black. I ride along in the back of the truck. Smiling, I sleep.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Into the Fire Again

Just some ramblings & a little update.


Saturday started as rather benign. That was a blessing since Friday was a rather confusing day. I am not exactly sure what to think. I am no stranger to confusion but this certainly came from an unexpected direction.

I am out driving the ex-wife to a store Saturday to get something; a simple hour trip. The water pump on my truck locks up. $650 to get it fixed. But I had planned on moving in a week; moving out of chaos. $150 for taxis and other associated expenses. Hat to wait for four hours or so for a taxi.

So I had to use my apartment money to repair my truck. I didn't have to, but if I didn't then I couldn't move. Sure, I could have rented a moving truck, but that would be more unexpected expenses.

No choice; back into the fire until February. And my daughter will suffer. I see echoes of my ex-wives behaviors in her. I have failed her in some way. I know it.

Until later...

Monday, December 10, 2007

Blood and Snow - Chapter 1

Here it is. It is more than a little cryptic and odd and strange; somewhat like parts of my life! I am not going to explain this; only say that this is a flow, right from brain to computer. All I am doing is correcting the spelling.

Dawn. My adolescence blooms into a rancorous period of puberty. Smells and tastes and touches and sites are different. Adrenalin and hormones mix in an intoxicating cocktail of manhood. The way of wandering the woods wondering of animals and monsters and glaciers and storms pass, allowing a new sentient being to emerge.


Strength and intelligence and desire spread out to the world. Senses heightened to my body and its inherent biological purpose. Disinterested girls skirt my universe with little more than passing glances. Inner galaxies tumble into serene pools of my mind as day after long day pass.


There, amid the din of daily parochial life she emerged from a newly birthed world. Dawns were deeper blue and sunsets a deeper crimson. Hands and lips and bodies touched; Devils and angels merging to form a being not unlike the one before. Full was I with life and death.


Pappa. My blood. My progenitor. My teacher. Floating on a tempest sea, raft of cornstalks and broomcorn. Impermanent, fibrous existence stripped from inside and out. His heart tired and broken rages no more. Eyes still, cold and sunken. The bulldog rips and discards the straw and sticks floating on the surface. Rest well my father, may you farm in peace forever. May the tears of my soul provide gentle spring rains and may you never worry of many things solely within the domain of this, my mortal world. I pray this to repay my foolish choice as our small world; my childhood home sold to the highest bidder with nary a tear or shudder. A singular word, “YES,” never uttered.


My carriage passes by a singular tulip on the bank. I know her from another time and another existence. Her beauty absorbs the color from nearby space with the promise to repay the debt double over. Light and her very essence swirls and plays around my soul as I pass. I freely drink the brilliant red laughing tendrils of memory swirling within my consciousness. An acrid intruder bursts forth. I twist left and right, knowing my universe has changed but not immediately how. I see him. The bulldog of brimstone and smoke tramples the singular tulip and exits this dimension, leaving only a cloud burning flesh in exchange for now nonexistent happy futures.


My mate and I weep over a singular perfect tulip petal mired in mud and blood and asphalt. The bulldog did not accomplish his insidious goal. Another younger tulip grows unseen. Tiny narrow green shoots of youth peek through the otherwise lifeless ground, promising to honor its mother's debts.


Dark gas of death comes forth when summoned. Filling the cage with odorless stench. The bulldog laughs. Blooms wilt and die, their invitations for the gas' visit etched in their eternal souls with a rusty nail. Sobbing and confusion and sadness saturate the universe and the world's oceans are filled with the tears of fond friends. A fleet of boats pitch to the storm. The bulldog sleeps and the dark odorless gas leaves a permanent tendril of its existence throughout all universes.


White beauty of youth, long black hair, flowing wedding dress. Simplicity. Bounding through the fields and forests of exuberance and youth and lust do we go together. Touching and experiencing. More responsibility that others but in the same, less. Trees of knowledge grow for us and we eagerly consume their offered fruits. Ageless streams, fed by virgin springs quench our lustful thirst and baptize us unto nature.


I please. Anger and conflict do I avoid. Tales and fables told to settle and calm. I scar my own soul. Only ten lengths down the road I see. Not a single sin did I commit but tales continue. Discontented smoke swirls, words to cover. Why? 'Tis not a sin? Yet down that path I continue.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Bikers Against Child Abuse

Tumbling in My Brain

There is another tale tumbling around in my brain. This is an important one, I feel. It is close to my heart and must be written. It is not something concrete, but rather flowing. It is full of cryptic symbolism and unexpected references.

I see a sharp turn up ahead at the crest of a hill. I know not what direction it shall take me; sharp to the right or sharp to the left. I only know it is there, and that knowledge keeps me safe... relatively so.